A Handful of Sweets
by jambajunkie
Summary: A series of 50 one-shots set in the universe of Shall we date? Wizardess Heart, covering various different routes. Klaus and Elias are heavily featured, though nearly all characters get some attention. Spoilers for each route. Mostly in-game pairings. Complete.
1. Jealousy - Klaus

Summary: When Clara defends Elias to his brother, Klaus becomes unreasonably jealous. Klaus x MC.

"I'm terribly jealous," he'd warned her on the day she was accepted to the academy, while she was sitting in his lap peering up at him. Knowing Clara, it was no surprise to Klaus that she hadn't quite gotten it the first time around.

A few weeks later she was in the courtyard with him, working on controlling a fire spell, while Klaus drilled Elias on a higher-level version. As Klaus criticized his brother, harping repeatedly on the generic quality of Elias' spell, the fireball that had been hovering precariously on the edge of Clara's wand swirled out of control and shot into the sky, scattering like fireworks.

Clara let out a yelp, and Klaus barely had time to grab her and pull her close, before he cast a protective water barrier above the three of them. The fireball rained ember droplets, which sizzled harmlessly into smoke as they hit the water.

"Are you all right?" he asked in a low voice, checking her over to make sure she hadn't been singed. He let out a breath of relief when she nodded, shakily.

With the danger over, his voice grew stern and disappointed. "Clara. You haven't lost control over something that basic in a while. I thought we were well beyond that stage."

"Aww…I-I know," she muttered, not meeting his gaze. "I'm s-sorry."

By now, he knew her well enough that he could detect the petulant thread of steel behind the usual meek apology. He saw her fists clench and sighs inwardly. "What is it?"

"N-nothing!" she exclaimed. Her voice trembled and her hands twitched.

"Clara." Klaus tilted her chin upwards and forced her to meet his gaze, studiously ignoring Elias' intrigued observation. Clara always looked this way when she thought she was about to upset him. "Tell me what's wrong."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and her gaze flickered between Klaus and Elias. "You shouldn't say those things about Elias!" she shouted suddenly, clearly unable to control herself any longer. "You shouldn't call him a second-rate wizard! Elias is the best in our class!"

Elias jerked, startled, his cheeks rapidly turning pink. "Um…Hart," his brother began. "You don't have to –"

"I do!" Clara declared, now red-faced with indignation. Klaus was suddenly reminded of a very angry kitten, swiping its tiny claws ineffectually at a much larger threat. The thought was charming until she spoke again. "I look up to Elias a lot. He's so efficient with his magic. It's…beautiful." She frowned at Klaus. "So you shouldn't say those mean things to him because they aren't true!"

Beautiful? Elias' magic? Jealousy overtook Klaus like a storm. Behind him Elias blushed and flinched simultaneously. Even Clara, as dense as she is, seemed to understand that she'd gone a little too far. She looked up at Klaus, and he saw her swallow nervously.

Klaus whirled around. "Elias," he managed. "Go." Needing no other explanation, Elias grabbed his books and headed off back in the direction of the boys' dorm, shooting Clara an apologetic glance.

Klaus towered over the small, frustrating woman that he had claimed as his girlfriend. Clara was clearly wavering, trying to figure out what to say to him. After a long moment of taut silence, she sighed. "Elias is my friend," she began weakly. "You weren't being fair to him."

At once Klaus' anger washed away. It was the purity of her heart, and the strength of her loyalty, which had provoked her to speak out in defense of his brother. Klaus was deeply proud of Clara's strength of heart, and his superficial jealousy faded in light of that realization.

"I know," he said, his voice gentle. Clara peered up at him, her eyes wide, clearly having expected some amount of vitriol rather than this unexpected amnesty. "Elias…" Klaus hesitated. "My brother doesn't have the strongest innate magical ability. He hasn't ever shown any of the rarer abilities." Klaus traced his finger down Clara's neck, along the chain of the pendant he'd given her to keep her safe, and which had enabled her time travel ability to manifest so unexpectedly. "Unlike you," he added

"But…" Clara blinked in surprise. "He's so good at magic."

"My brother works and practices harder than anyone," Klaus said, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. "That's the reason he has reached his current level of mastery."

Clara nodded. "He's always studying hard," she mused.

"But he can't get complacent," Klaus muttered. "If I don't say things like that…he'll never push himself quite as hard as he does."

Clara was quiet. Klaus watched the emotions pass over her face like clouds – consideration, then confusion, then a moment of hesitation, as she prepared to voice something she thinks he won't like. As usual, she forged on ahead, propelled by her conscience rather than her better judgment. "So…do you think the only reason he tries so hard is because of you? His family?"

Klaus pulled her close, unexpectedly. "Hey!" she squeaked, tumbling into his lap, squirming a bit in his hold.

"Relax," he ordered, his voice deep and rough with the pleasure of having her close, and soon she quieted, tucking her head shyly against his collar, like a cat.

Klaus shut his eyes. During their training sessions together, it was often difficult to deny himself these moments, limited himself to the instructive touches and a pat on the head at the end of each day. Now, he let himself enjoy the feeling of her, relishing her warmth and the soft slide of her hair along his cheek. She was always so small and sweet, a soft place for him to rest.

"There's a lot of family pressure, yes," he replied vaguely. It was difficult for Elias. Klaus understood, because he had felt that pressure himself, from his father and elder brother. But Klaus' natural confidence and single-mindedness had largely insulated him from being bothered by it. Elias was more sensitive. It was why Klaus had always, in his own brusque way, cared for Elias, trying to make his younger brother stronger.

Idly, Klaus' mind wandered, and he found himself considering when he might take Clara home with him, and introduce her to his family, and how they might react to the charming little simpleton that had stolen his heart. Ultimately it didn't matter what they think. Clara belonged to him; that would never change.

Clara sighed, her breathy exhalation ghosting against his neck. "Elias needs to do it for himself," she declared resolutely.

"Hmm?"

"He needs to find his own reasons to work hard. Like me," she grinned cheerfully. "I'm studying because I want to help the people in my village, and give back to them for taking care of me."

At that logic, Klaus couldn't help but smirk. "And how's that motivation working out for you? Can't cast a fireball without it exploding? Can't go one day without bunny ears magically sprouting out of your head?" He tugged at a pigtail.

"H-hey!" Clara protested.

"Judging from your grades, seems like my brother is doing much better for himself than you are."

"Awww…you're so mean!" Clara complained. She looked slightly miffed by his teasing, but no more so than usual. Klaus was always careful to watch for signs of real hurt, but one of the strangest things about Clara was that it was surprisingly difficult to really faze her by insulting her. She was just unnaturally good-humored. On the other hand, when it came to anything approaching intimate behavior…

"It's a good thing you have me to train you then, hmm?" Klaus smirked wickedly, watching her struggle against him for a moment before he lowered his mouth to her ear and gave it a little nip.

Clara stiffened, eyes wide in disbelief. "…D-did you just BITE me?!"

She was so unbelievably adorable, Klaus could not resist. "Don't tell me that was your first love bite?"

Clara flushed, torn between confusion and embarrassment. Klaus could feel the heat radiating off of her face like a furnace – a very adorable furnace. "L-love bite?"

He laughed at the expression on her face, and then leaned over to kiss away the bite. "That's not a real love bite," he whispered.

"Oh," she replied, and he heard disappointment in her tone.

"When you're ready," he promised, suddenly serious.

She flushed again, but her eyes went dark, and he felt a bolt of heat at her shy, expectant expression. But the sky was growing darker, and it was almost time to take her back. He told her as much, and they gathered their books and begin walking back.

Outside the girls' dorm, she turned to him expectantly, waiting for him to give her his customary farewell – a hand on her head, a caress of her hair. He did so, gazing down into her wide eyes.

"Thank you for being my brother's friend," he said. Clara blinked, clearly not expecting this. "But," he continued, leaning down so his mouth was at her ear, "never forget that you belong to me."

Clara flushed red again. But there was a smile on her face, a sweet expression just for him. "Don't worry!" she giggled. "You're the one I think about when I go to sleep," she added innocently, before waving goodbye and heading into the girls' dorm.

Klaus stood there, shaking his head. If only she knew what she was saying…but he smiled to himself before beginning to walk over to the boys' dorm alone. He'd be thinking of her too…just as he did every night.


	2. Nightmare - Klaus

Summary: Klaus, Clara, and a nightmare. The aftermath of Azusa. Klaus x MC

Considering how much time they spent together, it wasn't difficult for Klaus to notice changes in Clara's behavior. One day Clara had come to his office as usual, clearly cheered by the prospect of seeing him, but her reactions were a hair slower, her grins a little less wide. Klaus brushed her behavior off, scolding her as usual for being slow. Then it happened again the next day. And again the next.

By the fourth day her skin seemed sallower than usual, and she was unmistakably exhausted. Klaus had disguised his unease with a cutting remark about how she looked – "Awful," he'd declared, "Why can't you take care of yourself?" – but he'd grown more concerned when she barely responded.

"Clara," he called out sharply, as he watched her nod off while standing at the bookshelf. Predictably, with a squeak of surprise, she started, lost her balance, and would have landed painfully on her bottom if Klaus had not already positioned himself to catch her.

He lingered longer than necessary, letting his body be the anchor that she needed while enjoying her warmth tucked against him, before propping her back up on her feet. She blinked at him, the remnants of a blush on her cheeks. "S-sorry."

"You haven't been sleeping enough."

Clara sighed in resignation and nodded meekly in agreement.

"What have you been doing at night?" he asked. "I know it's not studying, because Professor Schuyler said you messed up in class again this morning."

She groaned. "You heard about that already?"

Apparently Clara had managed to turn a simple water glass-conjuring exercise into a disaster, summoning a herd of Wing rabbits that had blinked in and out of sight repeatedly, making them near-impossible to catch. Klaus had gotten a reprimand on his Buddy's behalf from the embattled professor, and had planned to give Clara a hard time about that later. In private, he was still trying to figure out how to harness her affinity for animals in a way that wouldn't cause havoc in the classroom. It was still unclear to him how so much of her spellwork tended to take living form, a tendency that reflected unique talents that could one day be extraordinary – if she ever mastered control of the fundamentals.

It was an interesting challenge, but certainly not the only challenge he faced with Clara.

"Get some more sleep," Klaus ordered roughly. "If you don't rest, you'll do poorly in your classes, and that will affect the both of us. You need to skip grades to graduate with me, remember?"

She nodded blearily. Moments later, she dropped a book on the ground – and then nearly dropped to the ground herself when trying to pick it up.

"Hey," he murmured, moving to take the volume from her fumbling fingers. "I've got this. Why don't you rest here for a bit?"

"Mmm….no."

"Why not? It's not like you haven't fallen asleep here before."

"I'll be…okay. Just a little…tired."

She wouldn't make it another hour at this rate; their afternoon training was already doomed if she couldn't see straight enough to return a book halfway across a room. Klaus decided to try a different approach. "Darling," he pitched his voice low.

"Huh?" She stared at him, clearly not expecting the endearment.

"Come take a nap. Please." He stroked at her hair. "I love seeing you asleep, you know," he teased gently.

She blushed. "R-really?"

"Yeah. I'm the only man who gets to see you asleep," he said with a smug grin, watching her face flame. He treasured that memory of the day he'd found her, sleeping like an angel, in this very room. It was a sight that only lovers had of each other.

He pulled her over to the large sofa across the room, and then tucked a blanket over her. She was unconscious almost before he finished. He kissed her forehead and she mumbled incoherently, her words giving way to a dreamy smile.

It was about half an hour later that he heard her whimper his name. Alarmed, he looked over, finding her brow furrowed. Her fists were clenched, and when he approached, he noticed that her skin had gone clammy.

She whimpered again, muttering softly to herself. "Klaus…" He reached down to stroke her hair, but the touch caused her to flinch away. "No," she gasped. "No. Please."

"Clara," he called firmly.

She did not awaken, and he frowned, knowing that Clara had a complicated relationship with dreams. Was she perhaps, dreaming of the future? But then she cried out another name. "Don't do this, Azusa!"

Klaus' eyes narrowed, and he firmly reached down to shake her shoulders, fully intent on ending the dream. Clara's eyes flew open. In her surprise, she sat up, nearly colliding with his forehead.

"Hey!" he barked. "Such an ungraceful awakening. You're certainly no sleeping beauty."

"S-sorry," she stuttered, more from habit than anything. Her eyes darted around the room, and she relaxed upon recognizing his office. He watched her breathing pattern slow, his own relief growing as she calmed.

"Was it a nightmare?" His voice grew scornful. "Such a child."

"Hey! Don't say such mean things! I can't help what I dream about!"

"That, among other things," he quipped, unable to resist the little jibe, before his voice softened. "Were you dreaming of the Nue?"

Her lip trembled and she nodded. "It's why I've been having trouble sleeping. Every time – I don't know why – "

Klaus' eyes softened and he gathered her into his arms. It shouldn't have surprised him, he thought, that she was still affected by that night. She'd been moments away from death. But Clara's disposition was so sunny that she'd never acted upset and so he'd assumed no lasting emotional trauma. It was clear that he'd been wrong – or at least, that she'd buried her fears so deeply that they only rose to claim her at night, when she had no conscious control over them.

My fault, he couldn't help but think, and a wave of regret overwhelmed him, at having been responsible for putting her in danger. If he'd been just a moment too late…

His arms tightened around her.

"Don't you think of it sometimes?" she asked.

"I don't like to think of the night I almost lost you." But he did think of it. Except that he had defeated the demon, and the illusory Azusa that had stolen her away from him, and he knew that he could do it again if he had to. No matter what, he would keep her safe.

He felt her relax against him, her breath stirring against his neck. He pressed a kiss against the side of her forehead, enjoying her little noise of embarrassment. Then he tilted her face and captured her mouth in earnest, feeling her stifled exclamation of shock.

Klaus was relentless in many things and this kiss was no different, both claim and reassurance in one. He felt Clara slowly melt back into his arms, and his heart seemed to contract a little when he felt her tentatively kiss him back, her fingers unconsciously stroking him where she clung to his neck.

After a few moments, he let them go, enjoying the way she gasped for breath afterwards, face flushed and eyes dark. She tucked herself against his neck, the way she seemed to like best when they were alone and she needed to hide from his gaze, her embarrassment getting the best of her.

Outside the office, the bell rang, signaling the imminent start of the afternoon classes. Clara stiffened, and wordlessly Klaus let her move away to gather her things. When she was ready to go, she came back to his desk and waited for his customary pat of farewell.

"I'll see you this afternoon, after class," he said, smoothing down a section of her hair that had gotten mussed during her nap. "You'll finish your chores that you didn't do. Although…" he hummed speculatively.

Clara gazed at him curiously. "What is it?"

"The best way to keep you safe is to make sure you know how to protect yourself." And then he smirked, seeing the dawning horror in Clara's eyes. She already knew what was coming. "That's why you're going to have extra Special Training this weekend."

"W-what?! Hey! Not fair!" Klaus could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she fumbled for an excuse. "I need to sleep more this weekend!" she claimed, desperately.

"You'll sleep even better when you're tired out from the training," Klaus countered without missing a beat.

"Awww…" Clara groaned. "I almost prefer the nightmares. I just have to wait for you to show up, instead of conjuring dozens of tornadoes!"

Klaus laughed at her expression. Watching her get so adorably angry was just too much fun. She was always so charming when she was flustered. He reached down to squeeze her hand, suddenly serious again. "As long as you know, precious girl…I'll always come for you."

"I-I know," she replied quietly, cheeks flushing at his words, before turning and disappearing outside.


	3. Midnight - Yukiya

Summary: Yukiya, Clara, and the full moon. Yukiya x MC.

The light of the full moon woke Clara more effectively than any alarm clock; she opened her eyes and her heart was already beating quickly in anticipation. Beside her, the wing rabbit snored heavily, undisturbed.

Clara blinked away her exhaustion as she dressed, selecting a warm outfit and gathering her cloak to wrap around her. Though the headmaster probably knew about these monthly nighttime visits, it was still technically forbidden to venture out at night. But since she and Yukiya had gotten together – Clara blushed at the thought, even now – this was a night that she never missed each month.

She sneaked through the halls, shutting the doors quietly behind her, until she was finally outside. And there he waited, a massive dark shape with glowing eyes in the shadows of the trees.

She glanced around, to make sure they were alone, before running over to him, so excited that she almost tripped when she reached him. As usual, he bore her up with his quiet strength, now magnified in the form of the beast. She was suddenly overwhelmed with how much she'd missed him. It had been a day since she'd last seen him, feverish and weak as she'd helped him to the boys' dorm after the last class of the day. And she never told him this but she actually looked forward to seeing him as the beast sometimes, partially because he looked so cute and partially because she was the only one who got to do so.

"Yukiya." She buried her face into his fur, hugging him happily.

"Missed you, Clara," the beast rumbled, in a voice at once just like Yukiya's and not – equally gentle, but darker and rougher.

Normally this was the part when she'd turn him back. She felt embarrassed already, and always did, each time. There was something too bold about being the instigator of their kisses that she could never get over. But this time Yukiya nudged her against his midsection, away from his muzzle.

"Climb onto my back." It was textbook Yukiya – simple, no explanation offered.

"W-what?"

"Do it." He crouched down to make it easier for her.

Clara hesitantly slid her leg over his back, lifting herself carefully onto him and grabbing fistfuls of his fur to maintain her balance. "Is that okay?"

Yukiya shook his head slowly, careful not to graze her with his horns. "Just put your arms around my neck."

"O-okay," she whispered, face warm with embarrassment, as she obeyed. She didn't have time to protest further though – he was moving.

"Where are we going?" she asked, but Yukiya didn't answer as they prowled through the grounds, past the lake, and into the valley of flowers. At night the scent of the blossoms was strong in the still air and Clara sighed in pleasure as she took in their fragrance.

At last they reached the edge of the woods. Yukiya stopped, waiting expectantly, and she slid down from his back. In a grassy patch, he lay down, and she joined him, leaning against his broad side. "Why are we here?"

In response he simply gestured with his nose into the trees. "Firefly owls."

Clara looked closer, and then gasped in delight. Indeed, peeking out of a hole was a round, inquisitive face, illuminated by a pale blue glow. "Oh! It's so cute!"

Yukiya's expression did not change, but his eyes seemed to soften as she grinned at him. "They're hard to find," he said. "They only come out at night."

"Did you bring me here to show them to me?"

Yukiya's large dark body moved, turning so that she was cradled against his belly instead of his side. "I wanted to show you. And spend some time with you."

She blushed with pleasure. "Thank you," she said, shyly, reaching out to pet his furry back. She would have never done this with Yukiya the man, but here, in his beast form, it just felt natural. She giggled as a low purr sounded from his throat, and he rolled against her more fully.

"Feels nice," he commented offhandedly, although his loud purring betrayed his enjoyment.

"Yukiya," she giggled, between scratches, "you're like a big cat."

She continued to stroke and scratch his fur, noting how much he liked to be touched around his neck. Then he rolled over on top of her unexpectedly, and she squeaked, feeling the great weight of him push her against the ground. Suddenly it was too heavy, and she inadvertently whimpered as her bones pressed against the ground painfully. "O-ow…"

Yukiya froze in horror, and then scrambled off in a hurry. He leapt away from her, and Clara felt suddenly cold from the loss of him. She blinked, gasping, as he peered at her anxiously from a couple of feet away. His tail twitched in distress.

"I'm fine," she insisted, wishing she'd been able to stay quiet. It hadn't been that bad – he'd just been heavy and she'd been caught unprepared. "I'm not hurt." She stood and walked over to where he sat on his haunches, staring morosely at the ground.

At her touch, gentle against his fur, Yukiya's head rose to gaze at her. "Clara," he replied quietly. "I could have hurt you very badly." He gazed at her, and though his expression was inscrutable as the beast, she heard the regret in his voice and could see it in his eyes.

"You wouldn't," she responded without hesitation. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, preventing him from pulling away. "You're the nicest, kindest person, Yukiya. You would never." A wave of emotion gripped her, and she felt her heart contract with love and sadness for him.

"Only for you," he whispered. She felt a tentative, soft lick against the side of her neck, and she blushed, because she knew it was Yukiya's kiss in this form. "Bring me back, Clara."

"O-okay." She stood back a little as he rose to all four legs, and then came close again, putting her hands on his face. And then, she fought down a wave of shyness as she leaned towards him, placing a soft kiss on his muzzle.

Connected like this, it was natural to let her magic pour into him, as inevitable as the way she looked for him every morning, the way they were drawn to each other, like the tide reaching towards the moon. The beast shuddered, a soft groan rising from the leonine throat, and then in a flash of light, it was gone, and she was kissing her Yukiya, human again. His warm, strong arms cradled her, one of his hands going to caress her face as he kissed her. Clara shuddered from the intensity of his kiss; she felt like she was drowning in it; that it overwhelmed her, suffusing all her senses with him.

She opened her eyes, unable to help smiling as she gazed upon his face. His beautiful mismatched eyes looked upon her with so much emotion she wondered how she'd ever found him hard to read. Here it was – the world in Yukiya's eyes, and he was holding it out for her to take.

"Clara," he gasped, breathless from their kiss. "I love you."


	4. Youth - Klaus

Summary: Headmaster Randolph learns of Klaus and Clara's relationship, and can't help teasing the Prefect. Klaus x MC.

"Headmaster?" Three knocks on the door accompanied a masculine voice. "It's Klaus."

"Ah, Klaus. Come in." Headmaster Randolph smiled jovially as the Prefect entered, removing his cloak. Klaus moved to stand in front of Randolph's desk.

"Did you wish to see me, sir?"

"Yes, although it won't take long." Randolph's eyes twinkled merrily as he sat up and regarded the golden-haired young man. Klaus looked at him, and then almost imperceptibly stiffened, his expression betraying the mildest hint of suspicion that this wasn't just another errand.

Randolph schooled his expression into bland innocence. "So," the headmaster began. "I was speaking to Professor Merkulova after the last Field Day."

"Yes," Klaus responded politely, but there was a definite degree of coolness there.

Randolph had known, intuitively, that something was going on between the Prefect and Clara Hart. From the first moment that he had seen them together in his office, Klaus had been unable to take his eyes off of the winsome girl, a fact that the surly Prefect had attempted to hide behind his characteristic irritability. Later, a gossipy greenhouse door had confirmed Randolph's suspicions that things were moving rather quickly for the two Buddies. Klaus had been adamant that Clara be kept safe and out of the dark magic investigation. And then he had saved her, dashing to her rescue in a knightly display of magical bravado.

To be young and in love! It was all so cute.

Randolph had lived a very long time, and had long since learned to take pleasure in small things. He genuinely loved to see his students grow into their magical talents. Clara had been a puzzle, blessed with rare and promising raw talents. But discipline-wise…well, she had some ways to go. Pairing her with Klaus…well, some called Randolph a genius mage, and this was no less than a genius move.

Klaus was terrifyingly possessive of anything he became attached to, and from what Merkulova had relayed from other students at a certain café on Field Day, Klaus' behavior towards Clara was no different. Randolph could hear the wedding bells already.

But it couldn't hurt to have a little bit of fun first.

"Not that the relationship between two consenting young adults is any of my business," he began benignly, "but Klaus, you're poised for quite a bright future teaching at this academy. And Clara will remain a student for some time before she graduates." Randolph paused dramatically while leveling Klaus with an appropriately stern look. "I wanted to ensure that there are no…conflicts of interest."

He could almost hear Klaus grit his teeth for a moment, but to his credit, the young man's face remained blank. "I assure you that will not be a problem." Then Klaus's eyebrow furrowed in an expression of mild exasperation. "Clara herself would tell you that my treatment of her is in no way preferential."

Randolph raised an eyebrow in a show of disbelief. "She has already benefitted from your tutelage," he noted. "One might credit you as the primary reason she passed her trial. And even now, as your teaching responsibilities grow, you still devote significant time each day to tutoring her." And kissing her on the lawn, Randolph added mentally.

"She's my Buddy," Klaus replied defensively. "Her success and mine are linked. Of course I'm giving her extra help. She needs it. Badly."

"So you would do the same for any other student?" Randolph pressed, inwardly grinning.

Klaus frowned, clearly unable to tell a direct lie. "With all due respect, sir, that is beside the point. She's my Buddy. Something that occurred rather fortuitously after we left your office," he added suspiciously.

Randolph laughed genially. "The causes behind these things remain unknown to all of us," he reminded Klaus, although the Prefect was clearly unconvinced.

Klaus had clearly had enough of this. "Was there something else you needed, Headmaster?"

"I just wanted to air my concerns, no more," Randolph replied blandly. "You understand that your relationship will not go unnoticed by the rest of the school."

"It's too late for that," Klaus muttered. Then, his eyes grew steely. "If it is required that I forego the professorship to settle your concerns, then I will."

There had been no hint of hesitation in Klaus' offer. He was dead serious.

Randolph's smile softened. He knew that once, becoming a professor had been Klaus' dearest dream. And now, having found Clara…well, it seemed like the boy would give anything up to keep her. "You would do that for her, hm?"

Klaus glared and said nothing but there was an unmistakable hint of red on his cheeks.

Randolph laughed merrily. "My concerns are laid to rest. There is no need for such sacrifice. Now, go on, Klaus. The last class is out, so I'm sure she must be waiting for you by now."

"Sir." If anything, the red on Klaus' cheeks brightened, but the young man said no more. He simply bowed and took his leave, if a little more quickly than usual.

Headmaster Randolph burst out laughing from behind his desk. "And the Emperor falls at last," he muttered to himself.

From behind him, he heard a noise of disgust. A large hawk perched near the open window. "Seriously?"

"Ah, Conrad," Randolph greeted his colleague, speaking through the voice of his familiar.

"Do you really have nothing better to do than to meddle in the romantic affairs of teenagers?" Schuyler's hawk looked as scornful as the man himself.

"It's wonderful to be young," Randolph simply said. "But those two are something else. I hope they invite me to the wedding."

The hawk chuffed disparagingly before winging off through the window.

"Now…" Randolph pulled out a school ledger, and begin thumbing through the pages. "Who next? Ah yes…how about…" he pulled his thumb down the page and stopped at a picture. "…Amelia Nile…"


	5. Cookies - Elias

Summary: Klaus discovers that Elias has a girlfriend. As his sophisticated older brother, Klaus can't help but pry, just a little. Elias x MC.

Elias was late.

Klaus stood near the train station, scanning the street for any sign of his brother. The two younger Goldstein brothers made a trip home every so often on the weekends. But this was a first – his uptight little brother was always punctual, if not early. At least Elias had sent a magic note, though the hastily scrawled message – "Running late – meet you at station" – raised more questions than answers.

Finally he caught sight of Elias, weaving through the street, his blond hair glinting in the waning daylight. Klaus checked the station clock – only 5 minutes before the train left – and leveled a glare at his younger brother that Elias could undoubtedly feel from all the way across the street.

"What happened?" Klaus demanded as Elias finally approached. "Did you get lost?!"

"I sent a note, didn't I?" his brother replied, a little defensively, before ducking his head. "Sorry to make you wait…there was something last minute."

They made their way on and into an empty train car. Having put away his bags and sat down, Klaus was preparing to launch a verbal assault on his brother when something caught his attention. "What is that sweet smell – cookies?" He frowned at Elias. "Do you smell cookies?"

Elias sheepishly reached into his pack and withdrew a bulging pastel bag, tied with a pink ribbon. At the sight of the unexpectedly feminine packaging, Klaus' eyebrows nearly rose into his hairline.

"There's one for you too," Elias added, his cheeks turning pink. He reluctantly pulled out another bag, and tossed it to Klaus.

Klaus caught the package, turning it over in his hands with a smirk. "So my little brother has found himself a girlfriend."

Predictably Elias' face flamed. "S-so what?! There's nothing wrong with that!"

Klaus laughed. "I didn't say there was anything wrong with it. Who is the lucky girl?" Then his eyes narrowed astutely. "Could it be…Clara Hart?"

"How did you know?!"

Klaus rolled his eyes and began untying the ribbon on his bag of cookies. "She's your Buddy, isn't she? And if it wasn't obvious already, did you forget I sometimes teach your class, dumbhead? You think I don't notice when you can't take your eyes off a girl? You're terrible at hiding it."

Elias groaned, which was confirmation enough of Klaus' suspicions.

"But really, Clara Hart?" Klaus continued. "I've seen her grades. They're miserable. They're dragging you down, little brother. How'd you end up with such a worthless girlfriend?"

Klaus bit into a cookie just as Elias scowled darkly. "Don't call her worthless."

The cookie's flavor burst into Klaus' mouth like a ray of sunshine. A crumbly texture with a soft center, a sweetness that balanced the richness of the chocolate chips, and a subtle hint of salt which complemented everything else perfectly. And it was still warm.

It was incredible. It was the best cookie he'd ever had.

"Not worthless," Klaus corrected, eyes wide in shock. He stared into the bag in disbelief. "If only she were half as good at magic as she seems to be at making cookies…"

"You're right about that…" Elias sighed. "It's why I was late. She wanted to make them for me, and I had to wait longer than expected for her to finish…but her cookies are worth it."

A tea cart came by, and they both ordered a pot. Klaus frowned at his when it came; they had over steeped it again – but the cookies just begged for some sort of accompaniment so he supposed he'd let it slide.

He peered into the bag. It seemed Clara had made a half dozen for each of them, and he was already down to two. "Do you have more?"

"Not for you." Elias' eyes flickered over to his luggage, and Klaus surmised that there were probably plenty of cookies left. "She made them for our whole family."

"Trying to make a good impression, hm?"

Elias shook his head. "No, that's just the way she is." And to Klaus' surprise and amusement, a gentle, genuine smile appeared on Elias' face as he stared off into the distance.

Elias was completely besotted.

Klaus smirked. Elias' first love…this was going to be too much fun. "So how far have you gotten with her?"

Mid-cookie, Elias choked, and predictably turned tomato-red. "You too?! Why is that the only thing anyone cares about?!"

Klaus chuckled and took a sip of his tea. "My pure little brother, frequently that is the only thing that men care about." Then his brow rose again, in a calculated expression of intrigue. "Unless you're not interested in that…"

"No! I am!" Elias blurted out. Then he stiffened, realizing what he'd just said. "I mean – shut up!"

Klaus doubled over, shaking with laughter. Elias glanced agitatedly around the train car, as if looking for an escape, and then huffed. "If you're trying to get more cookies, that's not helping your case at all!"

"Alright, alright," Klaus held his hands up. "How about this? I'll offer you some brotherly advice."

"Advice?" Elias looked suspicious but intrigued. "What kind of advice?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb. It's a man's responsibility to take care of his girl, but we all know you're clueless. You need all the help you can get so you don't make a mess of this."

Elias huffed in indignation at his assessment, but didn't deny it.

Klaus settled back into his chair. "Tell me about her."

His younger brother fidgeted in his seat, looking around nervously. "What do you mean?"

Klaus grimaced. "I said tell me about her. What's gotten into you today? Did someone take your brain and replace it with cotton candy?"

Elias gave Klaus an irritated look but didn't rise to the bait. "What do you want to know?"

Klaus leaned forward. "You said you're interested, so why haven't you gotten any further?"

Immediately Elias grew defensive. "Hey! We've only been d-dating for a short time!"

"Have you at least kissed her?"

"Of c-course I've k-k-kissed her!" His brother was a hilarious sight, all puffed up with indignation and embarrassment. What did the girl see in Elias? Klaus had to wonder.

"So why haven't you gone any further? Doesn't she like you?" Klaus nibbled on one of his remaining cookies, momentarily closing his eyes in bliss as the sweetness filled his senses.

Elias hesitated. "Well…she's shy."

"Shy?" From Klaus' impression of Clara in class, she was cheerful, loud and noisy.

"She's never had a boyfriend before. She gets embarrassed easily." Elias glared at Klaus defensively. "I don't want to p-push her when she's not r-ready."

Clara clearly wasn't the only one not ready, Klaus thought with dismay. How did his little brother end up turning into such a prude? Elias couldn't even talk about this topic without stuttering.

Klaus decided to finally take pity on his brother. "Well, you have nothing to worry about. Just relax and enjoy your time together. Things will happen at their own pace, when you're both ready for them."

Elias nodded. "Yeah, that's what I figured. I don't feel like we have to rush – wait, hey! Then why were you giving me such a hard time before?!"

Klaus laughed. "That's my job as your older, wiser, more sophisticated brother."

"Ugh." Elias half-heartedly tossed an empty cookie bag at him. Then, his eyes grew serious. "Do you think I can bring her home with us next time?"

"Are you that serious about her?"

"Yes."

Klaus' face remained impassive, but inwardly he was surprised – and a little impressed. "Then I don't see why not. Have you met her parents already?"

"Ah, no," Elias answered quietly, grimacing. "Her parents died a few years ago. She's an orphan."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"She always acts happy, but I felt bad leaving her alone this time," his brother went on, troubled. "She said that after her parents died, she was raised by a lot of the villagers, but…she also told me once that she had to learn to cook for herself or starve." Elias shuddered.

Klaus stayed silent. No parents…that was tragic enough on its own. But there were other implications. Clara had apparently been communally raised – but not particularly closely. At one time, she'd probably been incredibly lonely, without anyone to turn to for guidance. And yet, she'd still managed to make it into Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy, all on her own, without turning into an insecure, stuttering wreck like his brother.

Put in that light, it didn't seem like Elias had found a worthless girlfriend at all. Emotionally, underneath that relentlessly sunny exterior, Clara was far stronger than Elias.

Perhaps this would turn out okay for them both.

"She has you now, Elias," Klaus reminded his brother. "And she got into the Academy for good. So her life can only get better."

"Yeah…if I don't screw up," Elias muttered morosely.

Klaus rolled his eyes. Elias' insecurity liked to rear its head at the least convenient time. "You're going to screw up if you keep talking like that. Listen to you! What kind of woman likes a man who always doubts himself?"

"Huh?" Elias blinked. "I thought we were having a brotherly moment there, but you just ruined it."

"Yeah, it's over," Klaus agreed. "I'm back to giving you a hard time. Do you know what I just realized?"

"What?"

Klaus smirked. "Clara was raised by a group of doddering old biddies in some remote village in the middle of nowhere. And you, Elias, can't even talk about love without breaking into hives." Klaus dissolved into laughter. "At this rate, both of you are going to die virgins. You're doomed."

"HEY!" Elias' cheeks turned beet red. "That's it – I'm done wasting my time with this!"

His brother stormed off in a fit of rage.

Klaus grinned craftily, and then reached over for Elias' luggage. He unbuckled and unzipped it – and almost laughed out loud. Three dozen cookies left. Klaus wasn't so cruel as to steal all of the thoughtful gift that Clara had made for his brother, but confiscating another six or so couldn't hurt, right?

After all, Clara could always make more when they returned to school. And as Klaus sat in the train car, satisfyingly munching on his stolen cookies, he vowed that he'd do whatever he could to make sure that Elias always had Clara waiting for him. Especially if it meant that a warm batch of cookies might be also waiting for Klaus.


	6. Tongue - Luca

Summary: Luca is startled with Clara is unexpectedly bold. Luca x MC

Once, when Clara had lived in her village, life had been predictable. Nowadays, between all of her adventures since enrolling at Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy, and the sheer chaos involved in dating Luca Orlem, there were fewer constants, but one of them was always a cheerful, smiling Amelia when Clara returned to their shared dorm each night.

So Clara was surprised when one evening, Amelia appeared decidedly glum. "Oh it's nothing to do with me," Amelia reassured her, looking nevertheless distraught. She sighed melodramatically. "It's just so sad. One of the girls in my class just got dumped by her boyfriend of two years!"

"Oh!" Clara's heart tightened in sympathy. "That's terrible…"

"They were such a cute couple," Amelia mourned. "And it was so awful how it happened…"

"Hm?"

"He's older by a few years," Amelia continued. "And they broke up because he told her she was too innocent, and that he was bored and wanted a more mature woman!"

"W-whaat?!" Indignation filled Clara's heart on behalf of the unnamed classmate. "What a jerk!"

"But what if he's right?" Amelia added unexpectedly. "Maybe that's why I don't have a boyfriend yet. Maybe guys prefer more mature types? What about Luca?"

Clara blinked. "He's never said anything like that before…" Then Clara stiffened. "Oh no…wait…"

With a sickening feeling, Clara recalled something that Luca had once said. It had been the night before she'd received her acceptance. Luca had taken her for a stunningly surreal ride on a conjured crystalline gondola, enchanting the lake so that it felt like they had been soaring amongst the stars. She'd grown panicked by the intimacy, rocking the gondola and falling on top of him, and as always Luca had refused to let her go. "A small part of me wishes you were more mature and another part of me wants you to stay this way," Luca had mused, gently. The comment had been a little deflating, but she hadn't thought much of it at the time…

Clara shivered. Was Luca dissatisfied with her? Was she really too innocent? Someday would Luca get tired of her and leave her?

No! Clara frowned. He wouldn't!

Would he?

He's Luca, she thought sadly. You never know what he's going to do next…

"Clara! Clara!" Amelia was poking at her shoulder, having clearly read her expression of distress.

"Luca said something like that to me before," Clara admitted gloomily.

"Noooo!" Amelia gasped. "Oh no, he wouldn't do that to you!"

"How do you know? I mean, Luca's so mature, and I…" Clara trailed off, suddenly plunged into despair.

"Hey!" Faced with a roommate to cheer up, Amelia suddenly seemed to revert back to her sunny, optimistic self. "Don't worry! It'll be okay. Here!" She reached into her bag and pulled out a magazine. This was not unusual; Amelia's desk was frequently covered in teen magazines offering love advice of varying quality. But this time, the headline that caught Clara's eye seemed entirely relevant.

"…12 moves to keep your love life sizzling! Drive him wild and he'll never leave you…"

* * *

Luca generally considered himself an astute observer of human nature, but it didn't take strong powers of observation to notice that Clara was acting exceedingly strangely today. She kept peeking at him out of the corner of her eye, blushing fiercely, and then looking away. Even Elias, normally denser than iron, had snapped at her a couple times, complaining about the distraction and issuing ineffectual warnings.

Luca huffed, his eyes wandering over board to the window. What a drag, to be stuck here in a stuffy classroom when the weather was so nice outside. Besides, Luca had been better-behaved than usual lately with regards to attendance. With Clara in his class, it was actually worth it sometimes so he could witness the frequently ridiculous results of her spellwork. But the remaining class today was going to be a lecture…and surely he deserved a reward for attending every other one today, right?

Luca's mind was made up immediately.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. In the clamor that followed, Luca sidled up to his adorable girlfriend. "Hey there, pretty girl."

"Luca..." she blushed, looking more flustered than ever at his approach.

"You know," he purred, dropping his voice seductively low. "You've been giving me eyes all day. You can't do that to me without giving me all kinds of ideas."

Unfortunately their moment was interrupted by an indignant voice. "You two are always going at it," Elias complained loudly from behind them.

"Jealous?" Luca grinned unrepentantly.

Predictably, Elias flushed. "N-no! Of c-course not! I just mean you should have some self-respect and save that for when you're alone!"

Luca smiled innocently. "Why, Prince Elias, what a great idea! Thank you very much." And then in one quick movement, he had one arm hooked around Clara's shoulders and another firmly grabbing her backpack. "Let's take his advice, shall we?"

He had them halfway out the door before Elias recovered from his surprise. "I didn't mean – Luca!"

Luca laughed as the sound of Elias' strident voice grew dimmer by the moment. "Let's go, Clara!"

"Wait! Slow down!"

Luca didn't slow down, but he took his girlfriend's hand and pulled her along, and hand-in-hand they ran until they were safely by the lake.

Luca had a lot of favorite hiding spots around the school grounds, but he loved the serenity of the lake. On sunny days he often used to sneak out here with sketchbook in hand, and spend hours replicating the scenery in pencil. With Clara, each moment of freedom became infinitely sweeter. Today, with everyone still in classes, they had privacy, too – one of Luca's favorite things about skipping class with his girlfriend.

But the privacy seemed to set Clara even more on edge. She stayed stiff in his embrace, and he began to grow concerned. "Clara?"

"…Y-Yes?"

His brow furrowed. Was her voice trembling? Did I do something? "What's with you today?"

"W-what are you t-talking about?"

"Hey." He tried to draw her close. She resisted again, and he sighed in disappointment. "Come on. You can't hide from me. Tell me what's wrong."

He watched closely as she shut her eyes, taking a resolute breath as if to steel herself for something incredibly unpleasant. Dread began creeping over his heart. Was she about to…was this…

Luca felt a flare of panic that left him cold. No, no…she wouldn't…no…he'd try harder, be better, anything not to lose her…

And then Clara opened her eyes, threw her arms around him, and mashed her lips against his in the biggest, most enthusiastic kiss he'd ever received from her. And – oh was that – yup it was – with tongue.

Luca almost choked with relief. And then he almost laughed because she was terrible at tongue. But in the next moment, Clara peeled away, scarlet with embarrassment, but looking so terribly vulnerable that any urge he had to laugh suddenly evaporated, and he just wanted her back in his arms.

"Whoa, whoa, where're you going?" He reached for her. "You can't just do that to a guy and leave him hanging!"

"I-I.." Clara seemed at a loss. And then her expression crumpled. "Oh no…I messed up, didn't I?"

"Hey, hey." He wrapped his arms around her now-unresisting form, and gently placed her in his lap. "Not that I'm complaining…but what was that about?"

Her cheeks turned beet-red. "…P-promise you won't laugh?"

Uh-oh. This was going to be one of those tricky situations where he would promise, and then she would admit something so ridiculous that he'd laugh anyway, and then she would be mad at him. Luca sighed inwardly and braced himself. "Of course I promise." What else was he supposed to say?

"I…" Clara grimaced. "Amelia told me about a girl who got dumped because she wasn't mature enough, and I started wondering if you…" she trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, before starting again. "You're so much older, and you've probably been with a lot of other girls," she managed, before her expression grew even more distressed, the thought clearly bothering her. "I was worried that someday you m-might get t-tired of me and go f-find someone else." And then she buried her face in his neck.

Luca couldn't help it. He started to laugh.

Clara stiffened in anger. "W-what – hey! You promised!"

Luca hugged her to him, hard. "I know, I know. I'm sorry," he murmured into her ear. "I couldn't help it." She was so very precious and soft, tucked against him. How could she not know that? "I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing because it's so ridiculous, and so like you to worry about something like that." He lifted her chin to stare into her eyes, and then his gaze fell to her lips. And Luca knew he was immediately lost, and he moved in to capture those sweet, adorable lips, and to show her with his actions what he wanted to say with words.

By the end of the kiss somehow they ended up lying on the grass, with her tucked against his side, head resting on his shoulder. He couldn't help but reach out to stroke her head, enjoying the silken slide of her hair over his fingers.

"I will never get tired of you," he vowed to her. She squinted up at him, the sunlight in her eyes, and he felt his heart clench because she looked so adorable. His voice grew serious and sad. "If anything, it'll be you who gets tired of me first, and my dishonesty, and my craziness…"

"No!" Clara's vehemence startled him. "Luca – don't say that. I would never!" She climbed on top of him to embrace his shoulders. "Don't say that ever again!"

Luca closed his eyes, savoring the weight of her. "Then it's all settled," he said. "We're okay. Nothing to worry about."

They lay together for a few minutes, simply watching the clouds pass by and enjoying the feel of the sun and the breeze over the water. Clara fidgeted against him and he suddenly grinned, realizing what kind of position they were in. "It was a nice surprise, though."

"Hmm?"

"You being so bold for once," he teased, and then watched with interest as she shrank back, face going entirely crimson. "Where'd you learn that thing with the tongue?"

"D-don't t-talk about that!" she shrieked. "Just forget it!"

"Aw, how can I do that?" Luca laughed. "To tempt me with just a taste…Clara, maybe you're not as innocent as you seem."

Clara groaned. "I d-didn't know what I was doing," she admitted needlessly, ducking her head. "I read it in a magazine that Amelia gave me."

Luca made a sound of intrigue. "Did you, now? Care to show me what else you learned?" he teased.

He expected her to react as usual but to his surprise, she slanted him a shy glance. "O-okay."

Luca's eyebrows rose in shock as Clara slowly moved over him so she was straddling his abdomen. Clara…like this…what…

Was this a dream?

"Um," Clara mumbled, face vibrantly red, "do you promise not to laugh?"

Oh, not this time. This time he was going to try his hardest not to laugh, no matter what. There was no way he was going to do anything to discourage her. "I swear."

Clara hesitated, took another deep breath, and then shyly grabbed his wrists and pinned them over his head.

What – Luca froze in shock, staring up at her. She looked so stunning, suspended over him, her eyes wide and unsure, her long pigtails framing their faces. One of her hands stayed to hold his wrists together in place, while the other one drew a soft path down to frame his face. This time, she leaned close and gave him a long, quiet kiss – and there it was again, a little flick of her tongue – that suddenly sent a bolt of tension through him.

"C-Clara," he gasped.

"Luca," she whispered back, and the husky sweetness in her voice made him groan. She moved down to his neck. The feel of her little breaths on his skin drove him crazy, along with the softness of her lips. She kissed him behind his ear, and then below it, and then where his shoulder and neck joined. And finally, when he thought he couldn't take any more, she opened her mouth and grazed her teeth against his skin.

"C-Clara!" This was moving too quickly. Luca's whole body felt flushed, and he suddenly panicked. At this rate…

He pushed her off, and she fell away with a squeak. And then he rolled over onto his front, breathless and panting. He took a few moments to recover before looking up at her.

She was gazing at him tentatively. "Was that…okay?"

Luca's bark of laughter sounded before he could help himself. "More than okay." Sufficiently composed, he sat up and reached for her. "Come here, you little temptress. Let me hold you for a bit. There…"

She snuggled into his arms like a child, and he almost laughed again at how innocent she really was. "Did you like it?" she asked.

Luca groaned. "Too much," he said, looking down at her. "Clara… you always surprise me. It's never boring with you around." He sighed in contentment as he squeezed her in his arms until she squeaked in protest. After a moment, he let her go, and she moved to his side, face still pink.

"But if you liked it, how come we stopped?"

Good question, Luca thought ruefully, but he took her hand and stroked her fingers. "I don't want you to worry," he began, his tone entirely serious. "I never want to make you feel like you have to do anything that you're not ready for. Ever." He squeezed her hand. "Don't think about what happens with other couples. You're the only one I care about. And that's true no matter what."

"Luca…" Clara was gazing at him with that happy, misty expression that told him he'd said something right. She threw her arms around him again, and he enjoyed her embrace for a few more moments before she drew back with a look of consideration. "Although…"

"Yes?"

"I…" she blushed again. "What we did…well, I kinda liked it."

Luca's body suddenly tensed. "You did?"

"Yeah," she admitted in a bashful whisper. "I wouldn't mind if we did it again."

And Luca grinned wide with joy. "Good. Me neither," he managed, before he kissed her again.

They didn't make it back to the dorm til late that evening, minutes before curfew. And Clara was pleased to report to Amelia later that night, that with Luca, she was now sure she had nothing to worry about.


	7. Gentleman - Elias

Summary: Sometimes, with Clara, it's hard to be a gentleman. Elias and first times. Elias x MC.

Elias had always considered himself a gentleman.

Before Clara, he'd always imagined that when the time came for him to find a girlfriend, he'd conduct a dignified, gentlemanly sort of courtship, with slow walks and proper distances, and an occasional discreet kiss in the cover of dark. These moments would be shared with some charming, refined girl who was talented at magic and who challenged his intellect - respectfully. It would be a pleasant thing to have such a companion – one who would elevate him.

And then he'd met Clara.

Clara certainly did not elevate him. Her effect on his grades was very much the opposite (though over time he found he minded less and less, even as she improved). From a social standpoint she was an unconventional match for a Goldstein, as she was very much a country bumpkin, never having even seen the ocean before arriving at the academy. But she did something more important than elevate him – she grounded him, giving him a sense of meaning and belonging that he'd needed desperately.

Falling in love with Clara had been no gradual dignified affair, but a mad headlong tumble that had toppled all his preconceptions. Loving Clara was sweet, awkward, and occasionally terrifying. Even worse, the act of loving her seemed to expose all the raw and vulnerable edges that he'd kept hidden behind his own dignity and the veneer of being a Goldstein.

Like physical temptation. Sometimes, with Clara, it was very difficult to be a gentleman.

Every reference book he'd ever surreptitiously read on this topic attributed it to normal teenage hood, citing adolescent brain development and incomplete neural networks. But if Elias had thought just being a teenage boy was bad enough, it was altogether worse now with a potentially receptive target. What he felt for her was intense, frustrating, and inappropriate.

Like now. They were alone, sprawled together on a picnic blanket at the edge of the woods, having planned to share lunch and study together for an upcoming test. Clara had baked him chocolate chip muffins, and had dozed off in a post-sugar coma after dessert, books forgotten. Elias knew he should wake her up and make her start studying, but he dawdled, his attention entirely taken by the sight of her.

She was so pretty. He had noticed that about her immediately, as reluctant as he'd been to acknowledge it at the time. With her pigtails, large eyes, and constant smile, she was lovely in a fresh, sweet way, like a field of sunflowers. Now, asleep and illuminated by dappled rays of sunlight, Clara reminded him of some kind of woodland creature, a nymph slumbering peacefully in harmony with the forest around her. Except she was snoring, which made him want to laugh.

Grinning like a fool over his snoring girlfriend…he was pathetic. But Elias so rarely got to see her this way, and so he lingered. It was a blessing to here at school with her, where their paths crossed constantly, but the routine of the school day ensured that there was limited time for intimacy. One day he might be brave or desperate enough to break those rules, but until then they retreated to separate dorms each evening.

Now, seeing the innocent offering of her body stretched out in front of him, he desperately wanted to touch her. Elias closed his eyes, overwhelmed by a jolt of lust.

No. He stifled a groan, feeling his self-control erode. This was why he was usually careful to maintain a distance from her. But now…they were alone and she was asleep, and no one would ever know…

Just a little, he promised himself. Just a little couldn't hurt.

With one hesitant finger he brushed her forearm, and he froze as he saw her skin twitch at the contact. When she showed no signs of waking, he traced the curve of her shoulder, and then stroked the intriguing swell of her collarbones. It was strange, but the parts of their bodies that they shared – shoulders, ankles, feet, hands – were still so much prettier on her than on him.

Even her ears. He wanted to kiss them, lick them, take them into his mouth. Make her gasp as he swirled his tongue over the delicate lobes.

Carefully, he bent down to brush his lips against hers, stealing a kiss. At the contact, her mouth twitched as if to kiss him back, a little movement that warmed his heart. Was it a coincidence? Or, after so many months together, did her body know and trust him now, such that it responded to him even when she slept?

He continued to stroke her skin, maintaining gentle, steady contact down her arms and back up to her shoulders. She was marvelously and unthinkably soft. Was she like that everywhere, on the hidden skin of her belly, and the arch of her lower back? What would it be like to have her against him, unclothed? What would she look like? He shuddered at the imagined sight and sensation.

He loved her. And he wanted her. He wanted to lie down with her, press himself behind her and hold her until they both fell asleep. He wanted that every day of his life.

Elias shivered, a little frightened by his own certainty.

"…Elias?"

He jolted upward, and leapt back with a yelp. Clara sat up slowly, blinking and rubbing her eyes.

"I-I wasn't doing anything!" Elias panicked, cheeks turning bright red with guilt. If Clara thought that he was trying to take advantage of her… His heart sank. What was she going to think of him? Another denial instinctively rose to his lips but she spoke before he did.

"W-were you touching my shoulder?"

"N-no!" he barked. "I-I mean – n-not for long!" Elias stuttered, unable to lie directly to her. "I-I… Y-you looked so… I didn't mean…" He gulped, floundering for an excuse. "I was trying to wake you up! You're always so lazy, and you're going to fail the test this week if you keep sleeping! That's going to drag both of us down even more than you already do!"

Her face fell.

He regretted the words instantly, the remorse hitting him so hard it was like a physical blow.

Clara lowered her head, not meeting his gaze. "Sorry," she whispered. "I just…well…" She turned pink. "I-it was a n-nice way to wake up," she mumbled.

"W-what?"

She frowned, looking ashamed and upset. "N-never mind… Just f-forget it!" She moved away from him, turning her back to him, and began determinedly putting away their used picnic dishes.

Elias felt like a stone had dropped into his chest – it was suddenly aching and heavy. "W-wait. Clara…" He moved over to still her hands. She wouldn't look at him, and he thought he saw her shoulders trembling.

What was wrong with him? Why did he always do this? Why couldn't he just make her happy?

"Clara," Elias began again. He gathered her stiff form against him, waving his fingers through her hair and rubbing her head to soothe them both. "It's just… I shouldn't have touched you without your permission, and I was embarrassed, and…I didn't want you to think I was some kind of p-pervert."

"I know," she replied quietly. "You don't have to be sorry. I…liked it."

Elias stared at her. "You…did?"

"Y-yes," Clara admitted in a whisper. "It makes me embarrassed sometimes…but I like when you do things like that. It makes me happy to see that part of you." She finally raised her eyes to him and he saw that her cheeks were pink. "It's something you do just with me, right? So it's not perverted at all. It's special."

Elias squeezed his eyes shut. It was always like this, loving Clara. Even back in the beginning, when he'd rejected her as his Buddy, she'd worked so hard to earn his respect. And now, even when he loved her, he floundered and failed and hurt her, and she still always forgave him, and made him stronger and better, and humbled him with her deep, unending tolerance of his stupidity and flaws.

He kissed her.

She squeaked in surprise before he felt her respond, opening up to him slowly. When they parted, Elias could see the little throb of pulse at her throat as she stared up at him, fluttering as rapidly as his own heartbeat.

If she didn't mind…then maybe… "Here," he murmured, turning her so that her back was to him. He gently pulled them both down back onto the blanket, until they were both on their sides, and she was tucked up against him, head resting on his arm.

"Mmm…" she murmured. "Feels nice."

"Yeah," he agreed. "You do too." He'd never known this before, the utter comfort of having a warm body curled trustingly against his own. Why had he denied himself for so long? He tucked his arm around Clara's waist, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her ribcage as she breathed. "I…don't know how to tell you this…but I think about t-touching you all the time."

"Y-you do?" she breathed.

"Yeah…" he laughed roughly, still embarrassed. "You can't begin to imagine all the things I think about. I want to do…everything with you."

"E-everything?" she shivered. "Even…" She couldn't say it.

Elias flushed, half from mortification and half from desire. "Yeah," he whispered into her ear. "One day. Even that."

Clara was quiet for a long moment, so long that Elias began to worry that he'd frightened her. "I m-mean…only if you wanted to," he stuttered. "I-if you're not interested, that's okay – "

"Elias," she interrupted him. "I do. One day."

He sighed in relief, squeezing her even closer to him. "I-I'm glad. But not until we're both ready. I promise."

She was blushing hard. He could feel the heat from her face, where her head rested on his arm.

"Elias…"

"Hmm?"

"Um…h-have you ever…" Clara grew redder, and then suddenly their closeness seemed to catch up with her, and she began to squirm uncomfortably. He immediately let her go, a little disappointed as she moved away. "Have you ever…"

"Ever what?" he prompted.

"Ever…with a girl…" She seemed to choke on the words.

"Hmm?" Elias blinked, and then nearly choked himself. "Oh! Um…ahem…no." Then he frowned. Wasn't a guy supposed to have more experience? Was she going to think less of him for his answer? "I didn't find anyone I liked enough," he added, a little defensively.

Clara buried her face in her hands. "D-do you ever…wonder what it would be like?"

Elias suppressed a shiver. If only she'd known how many times he'd wondered about the sight of her, the sounds she'd make… The whole idea excited him and made him equally nervous. Would he be good enough for her?

He reached out to pull her back to him, this time turning her so that she faced him. She looked so sweet and adorable and mortified. "If it was with you…" he trailed off, placing a kiss on her forehead. "If it was with you, I know it would be wonderful."

Clara sighed, brow furrowing nervously. "I w-want to be good for you. But I…don't know what to do." And in a small voice, "I heard it hurts the first time."

He'd heard that too. Of course Elias had some idea of the basics, but this was Clara. She mattered more than anything. They were each other's firsts, after all. Firsts were important. You always remembered your first.

And he didn't want to just be her first. He wanted to be her only.

"I would take care of you," he vowed. After all, he was a gentleman, and gentlemen always took care of their ladies.

She smiled at him. "I know. You always do." She sighing contentedly, moving to lay her head on his shoulder. "Elias…" she murmured after a few minutes, her voice thick with drowsiness.

"Hmm?"

She was dozing off. "I'm…so lucky…" he heard, before she fell asleep.

His gaze softened as he watched her, mouth quirking into a smile as she soon began to snore again.

"I'm the lucky one," he answered, before joining her in sleep.


	8. Perfection - Elias

Summary: Clara scores higher than Elias on a test. Elias' reaction is decidedly mixed. Elias x MC

If Elias had to name his most defining qualities, perfectionism probably would have made the list. The pursuit of perfection had guided him for much of his life, enabling him to perform impressively even with magical talents that were merely above average. Keenly sensitive to the pressure of living up to the standards set by his high-achieving family members, Elias always believed he'd had no choice but to be perfect.

Throughout his life, there were some that had told him sheer perfection was unrealistic and unsustainable. Elias had never believed them until he found himself saddled with Clara Hart as a Buddy. Now, perfection had become utterly unattainable. At first he saw her as his own personal curse, one that – infuriatingly – he could not overcome by simply working harder. Of course, with time, she became something else entirely, and he found that he didn't mind quite as much.

But there was still his pride at stake. Even as Clara's boyfriend, Elias couldn't deny that he still hated the whispers of pity he heard when he scored less than perfectly, his individual performance dragged down by Clara's less-than-stellar one. It always put him in a sour mood – not just the grades themselves, but the resentment that he couldn't help but feel, compounded by his guilt at feeling that same resentment because he knew very much that Clara already blamed herself.

He'd never thought about how he'd react, though, when the tables were turned.

Professor Merkulova was finishing up his Medical Spells lecture, and Elias was taking notes attentively, despite having already reviewed the material on his own weeks ago. Behind him, he heard a little feminine yawn, and rolled his eyes in mild exasperation. Clara had probably dozed off again, missing some of the lecture material, and they would have to go over it together later.

"And now, I will hand back the results of your test from last week," Professor Merkulova concluded. Unlike Professor Schuyler, who liked to publicly post exam results, Professor Merkulova was a little more merciful, handing back individual test papers. Elias sat up in anticipation, along with several other students. "Aperio!"

In his hands, a parchment scroll appeared, and Elias' brow furrowed at the red **A-** on top. He scanned the test, noting that he'd gotten all the factual questions right. But he'd been marked down on the essay question. _Good theoretical basis,_ the comment read, _but shows a lack of practical experience._ Apparently several of the medical potions he'd suggested would have been ineffective – or even harmful.

Elias scowled at the unfairness of the grade. How was he supposed to know that chamomile was poisonous to dogs? And how was he supposed to get practical experience using medical spells, anyway? Ask someone to scrape their knee for the chance to use a _Sanatio Aura_?

Then he heard a surprised gasp and turned around. It was Clara, staring wide-eyed at her test. Elias felt a sinking feeling in his chest as usual, as he mentally prepared himself for how much further his already-depressed grade would drop as a result of his Buddy.

What he did not expect to see was the bright red **A+** on Clara's test.

Dimly, he heard Clara squeal with joy, and then Yukiya came up to her, smiling faintly, to offer a gentle word of congratulations. Luca followed, eyeing her test paper and then teasing her with the offer of a celebratory kiss, to which she blushed and refused, of course.

Luca's antics normally would have infuriated Elias. But he was still shocked to the point of disbelief.

Had _he_ actually done _worse_ than _Clara?_ How was that possible? "This has to be a mistake," he growled. "There's no way."

And then he turned to see Clara's joyous expression cloud over. "A m-mistake?"

"Well that's just harsh, Prince Elias," Luca tsked. "Your girlfriend here just got the best grade in the class, and that's all you can say to her?"

"You should be happy for her, Elias," Yukiya added, not unkindly. "You're Buddies, so it helps both of you, doesn't it?"

"Let's see what Prince Elias got on the test," Luca grinned gleefully, snatching Elias' own test paper away.

"H-hey!" Elias made a grab for it, but Luca dodged him and glanced at the grade, before doing a double take – and then laughing loudly.

"Pffft! Hahaha! Oh this is too good!" Luca grinned. "Prince Elias! Not on top for once!"

"Luca!" Clara intervened, gently reaching for the test from the taller boy's hands, and because she was Clara, Luca let her take it back. "Stop it! Leave Elias alone!" She returned the paper to Elias – but not before noticing the grade and blinking in surprise too. "Wait…" she frowned confusedly. "I scored higher than Elias? No way!"

Luca sighed dramatically. "You wound me, Clara. Your boyfriend is being all sour because his pride's been hurt, since you scored higher than him on a test for once. How is that true love?" Luca shrugged suggestively. "Maybe you should think about dating someone who would be happy for you, like me." Luca straightened with a flourish, before tossing his own test in the trash bin. "After all, I don't care about test results anyway." He winked and disappeared out the door.

"Luca…" Elias hissed, infuriated. But the worst part was that Luca was right. Clara was his girlfriend, and he loved her, but to have scored worse than her on a test? It was unthinkable.

Clara approached him hesitantly. "Elias," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "What Luca said…I-Is that what you were thinking?"

He looked into her eyes. Seeing the hurt there, he felt guilt grip his chest, so hard he almost couldn't breathe.

What kind of awful boyfriend was he? How could he be so cruel to her? Luca was right. Elias should have been _proud_ of Clara. If he truly loved her…

He couldn't look at her anymore. "I-I've got to go!" he stammered, before grabbing his books and storming out of the classroom, pretending not to hear Clara calling after him.

* * *

With classes out for the day, there were few places Elias could go to be alone. Even in his room, he ran the possibility of running into Yukiya, and he didn't want to have to deal with his too-perceptive roommate's meaningful silences, especially since Yukiya had witnessed everything. So after wandering the halls for a while, Elias found himself in the archives, a place where few students went.

Usually, sitting down with a book helped Elias forget his problems, but today he couldn't concentrate at all. He couldn't get Clara's expression out of his head – her crumbling expression of hurt seemed to replay itself over and over again. With a grunt of frustration, Elias sat back and set his book aside.

"Well, look who it is."

Elias groaned. Of course, it was the last person he wanted to see. "Luca. Are you here to torment me even more?"

Luca laughed in his gratingly carefree way. "Let's just say this is one of my usual hangouts. And you? Running from your troubles?"

Elias scowled. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Hmm. Suit yourself," Luca muttered, and Elias thought perhaps he'd get a reprieve, until Luca sighed. "Clara deserves better."

"Shut. Up." Elias growled.

"What I don't understand," Luca continued blithely, "is why your priorities are so warped. Here you are, living your meaningless honor student life, and then this girl comes along and she's the best thing that's ever happened to you. Am I right?"

Unwilling to sustain an actual conversation with Luca, Elias remained silent.

"And you, in your attempts to salvage your meaningless pride, constantly hurt her. The nicest girl you've ever met, and you pick a fight or upset her almost every single week. I don't even know how you manage to do that!"

Elias' hands fisted, and he gritted his teeth.

"What you don't even realize, Prince Elias, is that in five years, when you graduate, you're not even going to remember some test that you didn't do perfectly on. But if you ruin your relationship with that girl because of your own stupidity, you will regret it for the rest of your life."

Elias stood up. "Luca." He faced his green-haired classmate, eyes narrowed. "I know you're right. I messed up. But…" he frowned. "I don't appreciate you trying to hit on my girlfriend at every opportunity. Just as I'm sure you'd dislike it if you were in my situation. So knock it off." He gathered up his books to leave. "I'm done here."

Luca's eyes narrowed, and he smiled grimly as Elias left. "Better act fast, Prince Elias…plenty of other guys waiting in line if she changes her mind about you."

* * *

Elias wandered the school grounds, looking for Clara around the courtyard, until he finally gave up and cast a search spell. The beam of light led him towards the lake, where he found her lying listlessly on a grassy bank. He could tell from her body language that she was miserable, and she seemed so preoccupied that she didn't even notice him until he was right next to her.

"Hey," he said, suddenly realizing that he hadn't prepared an apology. He cleared his throat awkwardly, then looked away, but before he could start, she began to speak.

"After my parents died, I was alone and didn't know what to do," she recalled. "People occasionally brought me some food out of pity, but that stopped after a while. So I had to find a way to make some money, or I couldn't eat."

"Clara…" His heart ached at the thought of her, a young girl trying to figure out how to support herself or risk starvation.

"I wasn't very good at anything, but talking to animals was the only thing I could do. So I started helping people with them. Plus it made me happy to have someone to talk to. Animals are so cheerful." Clara reached down, fingering the petals of a dandelion that grew near her. "Over time, the most useful thing I could do was talk to animals and figure out why they were sick, and use my magic to help heal them. So people came from other villages to bring me their sick animals, and they would pay me. That's how I survived."

She turned to him, eyes bright with worry. "What I'm trying to say is… The reason I did well on that test is because it was about what I know. All I know about is how to take care of animals. So when the essay question asked about it…I had an unfair advantage." She took his hand and squeezed it, her voice trembling from anxiety. "It d-doesn't say anything about you, that I did b-better this time. You're still better at everything else. So please don't be m-mad!"

"Clara…no," he said, shaking his head. "No…no…don't say that."

"Elias?"

"By that reasoning," he began, smiling gently at her, "then I have an unfair advantage at everything else because I've been taught this stuff since I was born. But listen…" He drew her close, stroking her hair. "You don't need to justify this to spare my feelings. The real reason why you did well – and the reason why you've been improving so much since you got here – is because you're working harder and learning more than you ever have before." He paused, and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry. I was a fool…and I wanted to tell you…I'm proud of you for doing so well."

Clara's eyes watered, and he bent down to kiss her, thumb stroking away the errant tear that escaped the corner of her eye. "I-I was just so h-happy that I didn't hold you back," Clara said quietly. "We're Buddies, but it's always you helping me, so I was glad this once I could do something to help you."

He hugged her close. His Clara…always so forgiving. Luca was right. He was a lucky fool. "Clara…" he squeezed her until she began to squirm. "You do more for me than you'll ever know. Can you forgive me?" He nuzzled at her neck, and she squeaked, rapidly turning bright red.

"Um…o-okay…but only if you let me go! That t-tickles! Elias!"

He laughed at her expression, and loosened his arms, and she moved away in relief, looking flustered.

"And from now on, I'm expecting you to do the same on every single test."

She froze, staring at him incredulously. "What? Elias!"

"I'm serious," he said. "If I'd thought about this the right way to begin with…every improvement you make is a reflection of both of us, because I spent so much time helping you, right? So…we'll just have to work harder and even longer in the library, and spent every weekend practicing magic together."

Clara's expression had gone comically mournful. "B-but…b-but what about the time we spend together normally?"

Elias grinned. "We'll have even more time together because we'll be studying even more!"

"Aww…." Clara pouted a little, but then she smiled. "I guess I don't mind. I always like spending time with you, even if it's when you're lecturing me while I'm daydreaming about desserts."

"Clara!"

"Oops…"

"Hahaha…"

They spent the rest of that afternoon together. They spent some time talking about magic, some time talking about other things, and some time not talking at all.

It was as close to perfect as Elias could have imagined.


	9. Music - Klaus

Summary: Klaus discovers that Clara has an unexpected talent.

It was the first time he'd ever seen Clara's home, but from the outside, nothing about the little blue cottage surprised Klaus. It had a charming storybook quality to it, surrounded by colorful herbs and flowers that were now growing a little wild, due to the owner's prolonged absence. From the cobblestone path he could see that behind the house was a big yard with a few fruit trees, and a path that ran into the woods. And hanging next to the door was a wooden sign, onto which a childish hand had carved a slightly sloppy unicorn.

"Soooo…" Clara fidgeted next to him. "What do you think?"

Klaus schooled his features into a look of disapproval. "Needs work, Bunnyhead. Deferred maintenance everywhere."

Clara looked perplexed. "Er…deferred…"

"What I mean," he began, gently turning her around by the shoulders to face the house, "is that you've been neglecting the house. See that roof? That needs to be replaced. And I'm pretty sure I'm seeing water damage in that corner." Klaus scoffed. "But otherwise, exactly what I expected."

He observed gleefully as Clara pouted. "H-Hey! I took good care of this house. Really! I cleaned every day!"

"I'm sure you did. But you were what, thirteen? You probably didn't know better." His voice softened, and he stroked her hair. "You shouldn't have been expected to live alone…but I'm glad you brought me here. It's a nice house."

"R-Really?"

He watched her expression brighten, like a puppy catching sight of a previously-hidden treat, and reached out to tap her nose. "Yeah. It's cute, just like you."

"K-Klaus…" Predictably, she reddened. He smirked and nudged her towards the door.

The interior was equally unsurprising. Cozy and sweet, and just what you'd expect of a young girl who loved animals and flowers and sweets. It wasn't large – just two bedrooms, a shared bathroom, and a living room that connected into a kitchen and dining area. But as he walked through, he felt a strange connection to it, as if he could imagine Clara, as a young girl, as she grew up. There was a cushioned window seat where he could picture her reading a novel and then dozing off. Through the window, there was a tree, from which an old tire swing hung. The bookshelves were lined with storybooks about magical creatures, and he imagined her parents, delighting in their little girl's odd magical talent and nurturing her.

He paused, studying the photographs. There she was – so adorable as a child, with her round cheeks and big grin. He wondered if their children would resemble her, or if they'd take after his family, blond and imperious.

He secretly hoped for the first.

"Klaus?" He turned, as she approached him. "Did you want to see the rest of the house?"

He followed her down a hall. The first door she opened led to her bedroom, and he had to wince because it was such a girly space. There were stuffed animals everywhere, and a pink lace coverlet. A little white writing desk sat in the corner, and the walls were adorned with a pattern of butterflies.

Every inch of the room seemed to assault his masculinity. His gaze fell to the four-poster in the center. "That bed's rather small," he added, and she flushed.

"W-well, it's my bed," she retorted. "It wasn't made for a big person. Besides, you're not staying here anyway."

Klaus frowned. "I'm not?" He was disappointed, but rather unsurprised. Clara was often thoughtless, but she probably would not have suggested this visit if there were only one bed in the whole house. She was still quite shy, a trait that Klaus found equally endearing and frustrating.

Clara blushed, and took his hand, leading him out of the room. "W-well, I thought you might like a nicer room," she stuttered, before leading him to the door at the end of the hall. "It's bigger, and well…you're probably used to nicer places…" She opened the door.

It was clearly the master bedroom, though it was decorated in much of the same cozy style as other parts of the house. The bed was large, and there was a wooden wardrobe and vanity. As he approached, he saw an old wedding photo hanging on the wall. "Is this…"

Clara nodded. "Yeah…this was my parents' room."

Her deceased parents' room. The nicest room in the house. Klaus bent down, taking Clara's hands and squeezing them. "Hey. It's okay. You don't have to put me in here."

"Huh?" Clara peered up at him, and then shook her head. "Oh, no. Don't worry about it!" And then she smiled a little wistfully. "Besides, they would have wanted you to stay here too. They always did that for guests."

Klaus pulled her close to him, tucking her head under his chin. It always felt so good to be with her, but here, in this quiet, private space, away from school and its demands, he felt deeply peaceful. And here in her home, it was like peering through a window into her past, and seeing all the places and pieces that had shaped her. He wanted to know all of it, every precious piece of her.

"Thank you for bringing me here," he murmured into her ear.

Clara squeezed her arms around his waist in response. "I wanted to. Besides, you looked like you needed a break." She peered up at him, her fingers reaching to smooth his brow. "You always work so hard, even during the vacations…I'm glad the Headmaster was okay with you going away for a while."

It was probably going to get worse, Klaus thought, once he made the transition from a student Prefect to a full-time instructor. He was lucky to have Clara, who always seemed to look out for him so carefully. No one had ever done that for him. His precious little Bunnyhead…he squeezed her close, burying his nose in her hair affectionately.

His gaze wandered over the room, settling on an object he hadn't quite expected. "Clara," he released her and turned her around to face the item. "Is that a piano?"

"Oh! Yeah," she smiled fondly. "Mom used to play."

"Do you play?"

"Yup."

That surprised him. "You do?"

Clara grinned. "Yeah! She taught me."

He smirked. He'd never have taken her for the musical type. Then again, he'd never expected her to have the gift of time travel either. "Play for me."

As expected, Clara froze. "W-what?"

"You heard me. Don't make me repeat myself."

Her cheeks reddened, and she pouted. "But Klaus…it's been years! I'm probably no good anymore…"

He laughed. "I don't care. Just let me see you play." Then he smirked at her. "I've seen your grades, Bunnyhead. This can't be any worse than that, right?"

"Y-You're so mean!"

Klaus laughed, closing his eyes. When he opened them, she was already perched on the piano bench, lifting the cover from over the keys. She played a couple of chords hesitantly and then a couple scales, warming up her fingers and listening intently.

Then, seemingly satisfied that the piano was in tune, she began to play in earnest, and Klaus found himself standing in utter shock, as the music reached his ears.

Clara was good. Really, really good.

The piece she'd selected started off fast and defiant, probably a reaction to his teasing. As he watched her fingers fluttering merrily over the keys, he found himself relaxing and enjoying the music. She'd started with perhaps a little too much energy, but now it seemed like she was playing just for the fun of it, and he could see a little smile on her face as the music swelled around them.

The dramatic, fast-paced opening sequence ended, and was followed by a mellow, sweet movement. Clara's hands seemed to gentle on the keys, and she played now as if caressing each note, coaxing it gently from the instrument. Combined with the movement of her feet on the sustain pedal, her playing made it seem like the notes were suspended in the room with them, the chords lingering to create a lush and pleasant backdrop for the melody.

Klaus couldn't take his eyes off the sight of Clara's hands. He'd never seen them move with so much grace and skill before. It was utterly captivating, the way her fingers stretched and pressed, finding the chords unerringly. He couldn't help then but move closer, seating himself on the bench beside her. Immediately he felt her tense, and her fingers hesitated on the keys.

"Keep playing," he whispered, and she shuddered as his breathing tickled at her neck. The chords become more languid, and yet resonated deeper, charged with a new, sweet tension. He leaned over to brush a kiss against her temple, and then murmured into her ear. "You know, I've never really been fond of music, but I think I've changed my mind."

"Klaus…" She sighed, and then brought the piece to an end. When the last notes faded away, they were left in stillness, and suddenly the room seemed too quiet, as if it should have been filled with music all along.

He drew her closer. "You're always surprising me, aren't you?" Before Clara could respond, he'd claimed her lips. He felt her little hitch of surprise before she gave in and kissed him back. His sweet girl…she was such a riot. Every minute he spent with her was just so wonderful. It was as if he'd spent his whole life living in black and white…and then she'd come and suddenly he saw everything, felt every emotion in stirring, vibrant color.

When they finally parted, Klaus rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. She smiled back. "I couldn't help it. After you teased me…well, I don't often get the chance to prove you wrong like that."

"That's true," Klaus acknowledged ruefully. "Usually you're exactly as foolish as you act."

"W-what – HEY!" Clara protested, wiggling away from him. "That's not nice!"

"I never said I was nice," he grinned. "But you know what? You're stuck with me."

"Aww…it's too bad I like you so much!"

He laughed at her expression, then gestured outside. "Come on. Show me the rest of the house. I haven't seen the back yard yet."

Clara brightened. "Oh! You'll love it! And there's a trail that leads to the river…"

As she ran off, Klaus took a moment to look back into the room. His gaze fell upon the portrait of her parents, and then the piano. And then he smiled, knowing that one day, when they had their own family, their home would be filled with music too.

* * *

AN: Thanks to all readers, and especially to those who have followed, reviewed, or favorited this little story. The chapter ideas are actually prompts submitted by other WH fans via my tumblr askbox (username jambajunkie), so if you think of something you'd like to see written, feel free to submit a prompt. I can't guarantee completion or timing, but I will try.

Also, I've begun an AU, Beast, that explores a situation where Clara never made it to Gedonelune, but encountered Yukiya in his other form one night on a full moon near her home, in case there are any Yukiya fans looking for something a little different to read.

Thanks again! Every one of you readers is treasured, especially in such a small fandom.


	10. Reunion - Klaus

Summary: Are thirteen days' worth of memories enough to bridge a chasm three years wide? Klaus and Clara's reunion after the Unhappy Ending.

Notes: Shameless fix-it. And of course, spoilers for the Unhappy Ending. (If you're curious, I've uploaded the video of this ending to my channel on Youtube; username Papaya Jane.) This was actually meant to be the first chapter of a longer, angstier story where Clara actually does NOT return to the Academy, but I wanted to publish this happy version in case the sad story never got told.

* * *

Out of the countless times that Klaus had imagined this day, he had never once thought he'd be nervous.

He'd endured the endless ache of the last three years, working gradually but inexorably towards this goal. The day of their reunion had been the carrot that had kept him moving – kept him hoping – and now, it should have been like emerging from a tunnel of darkness. Instead of the sunshine, though, all he felt was the uncertainty of a strange new world. As he walked down the cobblestone path in a tiny village in the prefecture of Reitz, the simmering anxiety refused to go away.

His surroundings were idyllic enough: a stone path, storybook cottages, fields of flowers. Around him the sound of cowbells resounded from the hillsides, and happy bumblebees droned as they swayed in the air, drunk on honey and sunshine. Klaus harnessed his legendary focus and attempted to let these things soothe him – but then the sight of the little blue cottage came into view and he felt his heart rise into his throat.

This was it.

It felt surreal to be here, in this little village in the mountains. Stepping into this sun-drenched world, it was as if he'd entered a kingdom of Clara's own making. The rules that he'd lived by – magic and self-discipline – had evaporated, and he was surrounded by a sort of timeless, sleepy contentment that suffused everything around him.

Before him, the little blue cottage stood. He couldn't help but notice the imperfections – a crooked step, a clumsily patched roof – every one of them evidence of her hand. He did not need to see the little unicorn carved into a sign above the door to know that it was hers; he could feel Clara's magic surrounding it, as if it poured out the windows. His breath hitched as he felt the gentle, warm essence of that magic again. And then something in him that had been roiling and disturbed for three long years finally slowed and settled into place.

He knocked.

No response.

Of course, Klaus thought in exasperation, she wouldn't have the decency to be actually home after he'd journeyed so far to find her. She'd never made it easy for him; why start now?

He tried the door and found it locked. Irritated, he drew out his wand, muttering a quick word, and the door clicked open obligingly. He gently pushed it open and walked inside.

His first impression was of a dark, cluttered but cozy space. Then immediately he smelled cookies, and his attention was immediately drawn to the tiny kitchen, where a baking sheet sat on a rack, holding four chocolate chip cookies – clearly what remained of an original dozen. Klaus helped himself to one without hesitation. He'd barely been able to eat on the train ride over, and after three years, the least she could offer him was a cookie, he reasoned.

Appetite momentarily sated, he moved around the rest of the space. Stuffed animals of all kinds, many of them old. Sewing supplies, and a few incomplete projects, tucked into a wicker basket. A shelf of novels and storybooks, but below them, a surprising number of magical textbooks. Had she been studying? An upright piano – did she play? In their short time together, he'd never asked, and he wondered what else about her was still unknown to him. A teapot, and a tin of tea – he sniffed. Assam tea. He closed his eyes, the aroma filling his senses, taking him back to his old Prefect's office, with her peering up at him, half-terrified, half-determined –

He opened his eyes, and put the tin back.

Passing her desk, he stopped short. There, pinned right above, was a very familiar newspaper article, and in the accompanying photograph, his own face looked out at him, impatient, and a little desolate. Klaus remembered that interview well – it had been one of his bad days, or else he would never had mentioned her, and let that little snippet get into the media. He'd been bothered for weeks by women trying to figure out the identity of his missing love.

And here it was, the photograph and article hanging in front of her desk where she could see it every single day.

And then behind him, the door opened with a bang.

"Sagitta Lumen!"

He jerked in surprise, but before he could get his wand in hand, several light arrows flew from behind him into the fabric of his coat, pinning him face-first against the wall. Then he felt power coalescing, and a muttered "Turbos Ventos," accompanied by a swirling wind that stirred everything around them. She was protecting herself the way he'd taught her so many years ago, the same way she'd once protected a unicorn.

"I don't want to hurt you," she began, and his heart began to ache at the sound of her voice, through the barrier of wind. "But who are you and what are you doing in my house?"

It was her. Her voice sounded different, lower and huskier and a little frightened. He felt a swell of guilt – he had invaded her privacy without a second thought, and now she was afraid. It was not how he'd imagined this would go.

"Don't make me laugh, Bunnyhead. I doubt you could hurt me if you tried," he answered. He heard her gasp, and the arrows began to quiver, losing some of their energy. The wind also died down, her barrier clearly having gone out in her surprise. With the slackening arrows, he could move a little, finally getting to his wand. "Quies," he muttered, and the arrows faded entirely, before he turned around.

There she was. It was undoubtedly Clara. But the only image he'd ever had of her in his head was now three years old, and she was clearly no longer the pigtailed little troublemaker that he'd known. Her hair was completely down, long and silken, to the middle of her back. It framed her face, making her look older, less of the cute teen and more a young woman. And it was indeed a woman that looked back at him, taller and even lovelier than he remembered.

"Three years, and the first thing you do is attack me? Not the welcome I was expecting," he teased, his voice light and sardonic even as his heart grew heavy at this first sight of her. After a few moments, he grew worried when she didn't seem to respond. "Clara?"

She stared at him in disbelief, and suddenly her knees gave way and she sank onto the floor. "K-Klaus?"

"Clara," he repeated hoarsely, and he dropped all pretense, unable to hold back anymore. He moved towards her, big strides covering the distance between them, until he was close enough to join her where she knelt on the ground and wrap his arms around her. "Clara," he murmured again into her hair, and he squeezed her against him, feeling the soft, warm weight of her. She was here…she was here.

"Klaus…" she choked on a sob as her stiffness finally dissipated and her arms moved up around his waist. "Klaus…Klaus…" He felt her tears soak into his shirt, wet upon his skin.

"You little idiot," he growled, as he squeezed at her even more tightly. She squeaked in surprise. "How could you do that to me," he muttered. "Just leave me there without a word…"

"S-sorry," she whispered, tears flowing anew. "I-I'm s-so sorry…I-I couldn't…I didn't want to…"

"Little moron," he murmured, voice warm with the relief of being with her again. He stroked her hair, loving the feel of it unbound, flowing through his fingers. "I'm never letting you do that again, you hear me? Never…"

He'd promised himself that he would be restrained, that the three intervening years might have changed what had been tentatively wrought between them long ago, that she might have changed, might have met someone – might have married, even. But here, in her space, surrounded by her magic, and then seeing the little reminders of him everywhere –

He kissed her. He couldn't help it. It was unlike any kiss they'd shared – this one nearly savage with the intensity of a claim, yet deep with longing. She gasped into the kiss, and he felt her fingers clutch at his shift, felt her tears on his face where their faces touched. His hand moved to stroke her cheeks, wiping away the traces of tears. His mouth grew gentler, as he felt her respond tentatively, to him, and the kiss became a caress.

She made a sound – a little moan. Maybe it was completely unintentional. But the instant he heard it, suddenly his whole body heated, and he became deeply aware of her soft, warm body in his arms. She felt so good, and he wanted to –

She pulled back and he almost growled in frustration, but when she looked up at him, he couldn't help but smirk. Her cheeks were flaming red. She was as shy as ever.

"Klaus…what are you doing here?"

He snorted. "Still acting the moron, hm?"

"H-hey!"

He laughed because he couldn't help it, and because he missed that angry little shout. He gestured to the newspaper clipping over her desk. Clara's cheeks burned.

"You saw that, huh…" Then suddenly she glared at him. "What were you thinking? Showing up and breaking into my house!"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "You weren't here when I arrived. What was I supposed to do?"

"M-Maybe wait outside, like a normal person!"

He smirked. "I ate a cookie," he confessed, and she groaned.

"W-What?! I was saving those for later!" She gave him a look of frustration, her hands on her hips, and suddenly she giggled, and then he was laughing too, harder than he'd laughed for three years, since the morning when he'd searched the campus and found that she'd gone, and left a gaping hole there in his life.

And now, he finally felt whole.

After they finally subsided, Clara stood in a fluid, feminine motion that caused her skirt to swirl around her, distractingly. "Would you like some tea?"

"I'll make it for us," he offered immediately.

Clara smiled. "Of course…your tea was the best! I'll get some more food out, and then we can talk."

He busied himself in the tea preparations as she moved about the house, cleaning things up. It was Clara, for sure, but there was an element of strangeness about the whole experience, a growing dissonance between the excitable Clara of his memories and the lithe young woman before him now. She moved with more grace, as she tidied pillows and tucked away dishes into drawers. And she was lovely. She'd always been pretty before, but now she seemed so radiant that it was difficult to look away from her. He couldn't seem to look enough, devouring with his eyes the lines of her body. She was beautiful, and so familiar, and so strange, and he wanted to touch her again.

"Klaus?"

"What?" he snapped, masking his jolt of surprise with his customary irritation. She was staring back at him, blushing.

"I-I think the water's ready," she ventured, and he almost cursed aloud because she was right, and he'd almost ruined his tea in his inattention. He moved on with steeping the tea leaves, and she set out two plates with the remaining cookies – two for him, one for her. From a covered dish that he hadn't noticed before, she withdrew a slice of chiffon cake and set it next to his plate.

They sat down. As Klaus bit into a cookie, he watched Clara close her eyes, bringing her teacup to her nose. She inhaled slowly, mouth curving into a sensuous smile as she breathed the aroma in. "Mmm.." she exhaled, her voice low and husky. And Klaus had to look away, because something had snapped to attention within him – and it was far too soon.

They spoke of his work, of graduating from the academy and his duties at the Ministry. Though he hadn't become a professor, Klaus now worked within the education department of the Ministry, overseeing magical education standards at various schools. Clara inquired about Elias, who was preparing to spend his next year in his brother's footsteps as Prefect. And Klaus' family had grown; his elder brother and the mysterious Miss Elaine had married and already had one child, another Goldstein boy that promised to be as blond and handsome as all those who came before him.

And then Clara spoke. She'd studied hard on her own, and acted as a village healer now, able to heal more than just animals. Klaus smiled proudly – he'd noticed the shortened incantation the moment she'd attacked him with those arrows, indicative of a skill level she'd never before mastered. There was an odd feeling in his heart though, when he remembered the unpredictable nature of her magic that long time ago: how inanimate things sprouted to life, how animals were randomly summoned, how spells became tangled with other spells, and then the unexpected discovery of her time travel ability. He guessed she'd still had a ways to go in her education – you could only get so far alone – but it was clear that Clara today was a completely different wizardess from the little novice he'd met.

It made him a little sad, that he'd missed being the one to guide her there, just as it made him deeply proud that she'd gotten to this point, all on her own.

And then, after they had finished their tea and cookies and cake, Clara looked to him with serious eyes. "Klaus…"

"Yes?"

"Why are you really here?"

Klaus scowled. "Didn't you read the interview? I already told you. I'm here to get you."

A look of confusion passed over her face. "To get me? What do you mean?"

He smiled. "Thick-headed as ever, I see. I guess showing this to you would help you understand." And from within his jacket, he pulled out a very familiar letter.

"Well, hello young lady! It's good to see you again! Do you remember me?"

He would complain later that her shriek of joy had deafened his eardrums, but at that moment, there was nothing sweeter than that sound, and her expression, brighter and more beautiful than a star, and the feeling of her tucked right back into his arms, laughing and crying and swearing again and again, that this was it, and she wouldn't mess up this time.

"Stay with me," he murmured. "This time…Clara…no matter what. It doesn't matter what happens." He sat down on a dining chair, settling her in his lap. "Don't leave again. I don't think – " He hesitated, his voice dropping low. "I don't think I could stand it again."

"I won't," she whispered. "I'll stay with you no matter what. I promise."

"Good."

And she smiled. "But…I'm better now. I'm not going to fail the trial this time! I swear!"

"That's right," Klaus affirmed, looking down at her meaningfully. "You'll pass it this time."

Clara froze, peering up at him. "Oh, no…does that mean…"

Klaus picked her up effortlessly, a devilish smirk gracing his features. "The only reason you failed last time is because you didn't work hard enough. I live right in town, you know. So you're not getting out of special training. Forget about it. You're going to pass that trial if it's the last thing you do."

"Awwww…"

And then, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years, he kissed her again.


	11. Home - Yukiya

Summary: Another Field Day outing brings Yukiya and Clara back to the beach, and to their dreams for the future.

"You two are sure looking cozy this morning."

That tone and comment could come from no other than Luca. From her position perched on Yukiya's lap, Clara blushed and started to scoot away, but Yukiya's arm suddenly came around her waist to hold her in place. "It's okay," he murmured into her ear.

"Everyone's looking," she whispered back, casting her gaze at the ground bashfully.

"Then let them look." His normally expressionless face softened into a subtle smile, the kind that Clara had learned would have been an impish grin on anyone else. "Besides, I have nothing to hide."

They were sitting on the edge of a fountain in the town square, Yukiya having put Clara on his lap to avoid getting her skirt wet in the water's spray. Instead his cloak took the brunt of it, growing damp in the time that passed as they waited for Professor Merkulova's go-ahead. It was another Field Day, and students milled around them, standing in loose groups of four – something that Clara now knew from experience wouldn't last long.

Indeed, by the time her blush had disappeared, they were set free. With a cheerful wave to Elias and Luca, they set off alone.

When they reached the park, Yukiya sniffed, and they followed his nose towards the water. Clara was always amazed at how keen Yukiya's senses were, as if his curse had affected and enhanced even his human body. He could hear sounds from seemingly miles away, and his sense of smell was almost embarrassingly accurate. Sometimes he'd make an observation that made her swear he could smell her very thoughts.

Her expression brightened as she caught sight of the glinting shimmer of the ocean, and she giggled, suddenly breaking into a run. Rushing past him, she made a playful, taunting motion. "Come on, Yukiya! Let's race!"

Of course, he caught up quickly, his longer legs giving him an advantage she couldn't match. To her surprise, he grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly scooped her up mid-stride. Then suddenly their feet hit the sand, and suddenly unsteady, they collapsed together, laughing hard even as sand flew into their faces.

"Caught you," Yukiya said belatedly, his husky voice suddenly sending a tremor down her spine. Clara flushed as he gave her a sandy kiss on her forehead, and she had the desire to hug him, very tightly, so she did. Once her arms were around him he wouldn't let her go, of course, and as their kisses turned hotter and deeper, Clara soon found herself lying on top of him.

Her fingers traced his face, and she gently slide them under the band of his eyepatch, hesitating. At his nod, she lifted, and then gave his newly revealed marked eye a kiss. Then he tugged her back down to his lips.

She was never, ever going to get tired of kissing him.

They finally broke apart, both of them gasping, and blushing hard even as their hands remained clasped. Wordlessly, they stood, gathering up their backpacks, and walked more sedately towards the shore.

When they were near the line where the sand was wet, they set down their belongings. "Are you hungry?" Yukiya asked. Clara shook her head. "We'll wait, then." He drew close. "What would you like to do?"

Clara smiled, taking in the long stretch of shoreline that they had all to themselves. "I read in a book once that you can build castles from the wet sand."

Yukiya reached out his hand and she took it, and together they walked to where the sand was damp enough to mold. She crouched down, detaching a lump of wet sand and attempting to shape it into the likeness of a turret.

Beside her, Yukiya had done the same, except he was molding his sand into something a little more square. As Clara watched, Yukiya's deft hands worked to smooth the sand into the outline of walls and doors. Inspired, she began to reshape her own lump of sand into a vaguely animalistic form. A little canine head emerged, and a tail, and four legs.

When she looked up, Yukiya had created a house. He'd traced the outlines of windows, and even added a sloped roof with a chimney. She caught sight of his expression and suddenly couldn't take her eyes off of him. He worked as if under a spell, a distant, enraptured look in his eyes.

Suddenly he looked back up at her, gaze so intense that she almost fell back, nearly dropping the sloppy little sand wolf she'd created. His eyes were drawn to it, and then narrowed in mirth. "Is that…"

Clara groaned. "I'm not as good as you, but yeah." She gingerly placed the sand wolf in front of the house, where it promptly toppled over. "Ugh!"

"I'm glad Wolfy's not here," Yukiya commented, with a hint of humor in his voice, as he righted the fallen creature. Clara flushed.

"Don't tell him! He'll hate me even more."

"He doesn't hate you." Yukiya's gaze was warm with amusement. "He just…tolerates you. Like he tolerates everyone else."

Clara smiled back, looking down at Yukiya's creation. "You made such a nice house."

"It's our house."

Clara's cheeks grew red, with mingled embarrassment and delight, and her hands reached out to trace it the edge of the structure gently. "Yukiya…"

He continued to sculpt the landscape around the little house, and it soon rested on a hill, overlooking a plain of sand. As Clara watched, Yukiya created a shallow indentation at the bottom of the hill, packing the sand firmly. When a wave rolled in far enough, it filled the hollow with water, leaving a little pond.

"There," he pronounced. "Now it's overlooking the water." He sat back, surveying the sand house, before turning to Clara. "How do you feel? Are you hungry?"

She wasn't feeling terribly hungry, but she guessed that Yukiya probably was, disguising it behind his concern for her. "Let's eat."

They walked back to where they'd dropped their things, and Yukiya laid out a blanket. Clara opened up her pack, drawing out their premade sandwiches, canteens of water, cookies, and several apple slices cut up to look like rabbits. Together, they set, watching the waves roll against the shore as they ate their lunch.

The meal was a mostly quiet affair, in a contented way. Clara studied Yukiya's little apple rabbits as she ate them. They were a tangible remnant of his past life, the part of him that had been raised smiling amongst the clamor of multiple younger siblings. She imagined him cutting up the apple slices with his strong, deft hands, speaking soothing words to a crowd of impatient little brothers and sisters. He would, Clara thought with a pang, make a wonderful father one day.

"What are you thinking about?"

He was watching her again, gazing steadily. When she had once been unnerved, she now knew this was simply how Yukiya was with her, just as he acted detached and inattentive when around strangers. "Um," she answered, grasping for something innocuous. She fidgeted, fondling the little white flower on the bracelet he'd once given her. "J-Just…I was just thinking about how nice it is to have this view, while we're eating."

Yukiya slanted her a look that said he guessed her thoughts had been elsewhere, but was merciful as always. "Yeah. We'll be able to eat outside each day in our house, looking over the sea."

Clara giggled, delighted. "Tell me more about our house."

"I'd like to build it myself."

She gasped. "Y-Yukiya…" For some reason, it touched her deeply, that he'd want to create with his own hands the shelter that would house them and their family.

He continued. "We'd have a garden, or a small patch of land for some crops. A barn, so you can continue to help with injured animals. A swing set." His mouth quirked. "We'd gather clams and swim along the shore. At night I'd make love to you on the beach."

"W-Wha – " Clara's face flamed, and suddenly her body flushed with heat. " _Yukiya!"_ She had _not_ been expecting that. Suddenly the vision of it was in her head and she couldn't get it out. It was unsettling, and beautiful, and frightening, and –

He stared at her, puzzled. "What?"

"You can't just _say_ that!"

"Say what? Make – "

"Shhh!" Clara dove to clap her palm over Yukiya's mouth, face scarlet. She still couldn't believe he'd said it so _casually_. But that was Yukiya – either completely uncommunicative, or so unhesitatingly frank that sometimes even Luca choked in shock.

One of Yukiya's hands came to stroke at her back, and he pulled her close to him, nudging her palm away. "What's wrong, Clara? It's what couples do when they love each other." He drew her chin up so she faced him. "Do you love me?"

She found herself softening at the rare sight of his eyes, the mismatched pair so beautiful. "Yes," she murmured.

"Then there's nothing to be embarrassed about." His hand came to caress her cheek, and he peered into her eyes, expression turning more serious. "…Are you afraid?"

She blushed and then buried her face in his neck.

"Don't be," he said, hands running down her back. "I'll be with you the whole time."

"I know," she breathed, suddenly overwhelmed at how quickly their conversation had taken this very intimate turn. "I trust you more than anyone, Yukiya." As she tucked her face against his skin, she confessed. "I was thinking before that you'd make a very good father."

He didn't respond immediately but his arms tightened around her. They stood, quiet against the sound of the waves, before he looked down at her. "Do you want that?"

"Yes," she answered immediately. "I'd want a lot of kids. It was lonely to be by myself. After Mom and Dad died, I always wondered what it would have been like to have had siblings, so I wouldn't have been left alone."

"You'll never be alone again." His eyes grew dark. "And…I'll show you there's nothing to be afraid of."

He surprised her then by picking her up in his arms. Clara squeaked, but his hold was steady, and she soon calmed down. He set her down on the blanket, clearing away the remnants of their finished meal before sitting next to her and pulling her into his lap. And then he was kissing her.

It was like a spell, the feeling and the taste of him, the sight of his face wholly uncovered, as open to her as his heart, and the sound of the waves swishing gently in the background. The breezed caressed her skin but Yukiya was even more gentle, and in his arms she felt so very cherished and cared for that there was simply no more room for doubt.

She was the luckiest girl in the world.

"I'm here," he whispered. "I'll always be here."

"I know," she answered. And she kissed him again.


	12. Birthday - Klaus

Summary: It's Clara's birthday, and Klaus has made some surprise plans. Klaus x MC.

It was nearing midnight, and Klaus was getting impatient.

He'd checked all the conditions, even confirming with Randy, and the cotton candy head had assured him that it was perfect. Wind direction, humidity, moonlight…all the ridiculously arbitrary things that unicorns liked were there in abundance today. And yet, it felt like he'd been there for hours, and still no sign of one.

Maybe, he thought, they'd been frightened off the school grounds for good, after that incident with Azusa. He wouldn't have blamed them, but if that were the case, it would completely and utterly ruin his plans.

Klaus did not enjoy having his plans ruined. Especially not plans as important as these.

Finally, he caught sight of a white flash, as a unicorn emerged from the woods to sip at the lake water. Klaus cleared his throat, and at the sound, the unicorn snorted. "Humans again? Have you not learned your lesson yet?"

Unicorns had a notoriously annoying attitude, and clearly this one hadn't lost the chip on its shoulder despite being saved by one of the very humans it disparaged. "I don't want anything for myself. It's for someone else. Someone you know."

He gestured to a rock on which he'd placed a very familiar wand. The unicorn glanced over at it, then pawed the ground in resignation. "Very well. I will honor her goodness and listen to you – for a little."

Klaus nodded in satisfaction, and then made his request.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, like most at the Academy. Klaus stood patiently by the entrance of the girls' dorm, and finally Clara appeared, followed by her roommate Amelia. Clara's face rarely lacked a smile, but today she seemed incandescent. The pink ribbons in her hair had been replaced by a festive pair of bows, probably Amelia's doing.

Upon catching sight of him, Clara waved a cheerful goodbye to her roommate and skipped over to him. "Klaus!"

"You look like a five-year-old. Can't you be a little calmer, this early in the morning?"

She pouted at him. "You can't be mean to me today!"

"And why is that?" He reached out to ruffle her hair, stroking one of the long tails. "It's a day like any other."

"K-Klaus!" There was a look of dawning horror on her face. Hiding his amusement, he maintained a stoic, if slightly irritated expression and turned towards the academy.

"Let's go," he said, "or we'll be late."

After a moment of silence, he heard her footsteps, pattering rapidly against the stone as she caught up. She fell into step next to him as always, peering up at him. "Um…Klaus…don't you know what day it is?"

"Friday. And the day of your Practical Magic test." He leveled a stern gaze at her. "Don't mess this one up, Bunnyhead. We don't do so much training for you to forget it all when it counts."

"Aww…I forgot…"

Klaus groaned. "What kind of moron are you?" Really, a girl of her age getting so excited about a birthday that she'd forgotten about her test? It was simultaneously adorable and pathetic. "It's a good thing I'm already a Prefect. If we'd met last year, you'd have ruined my chances for sure."

"Klaus!"

He smirked at the sound of her protest. They were standing in front of his office now, and this was where they usually parted. Clara now looked a little less sunny than before, clearly beginning to fret about the test she had forgotten, and the occasion that she worried he had forgotten.

That wouldn't do. Mindful of the stares of surrounding students, Klaus opened his office door and pulled her inside. After the door closed, from within his cloak he withdrew a small box. His movement caught Clara's attention, and she watched curiously as he opened it. He kept an eye on her expression, and smiled inwardly as she saw the bracelet inside. Her expression filled with wonder. It was gleaming silver, enchanted never to lose its luster, set with a pattern of red stones. It matched the pendant that he'd once given her, and that she still wore.

"Ohh…Klaus…" Suddenly her expression brightened. "You remembered!"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I remembered. I'm not a moron who forgets important things like you."

The comment had no effect on her now; she continued to beam. He withdrew the bracelet from the box and then took one of her wrists, clasping it on her carefully.

"It's so pretty," she breathed, with the timeless expression that every girl seemed to get when presented with a piece of jewelry. "Thank you, Klaus!" She threw her arms around him.

"It'll have to tide you over til tonight," he said, ruffling her hair, a note of regret in his voice. "I've got meetings during lunch and after school. I won't be able to see you til then."

"Aww…" she sighed, but then suddenly perked up. "That means special training is cancelled! What a great present!"

"Yes," Klaus muttered dryly. "How flattering of you to see it that way." And as the bell rang, signaling the imminent start of her first class, he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "I'll see you later."

She blushed prettily, eyes glancing down with pleasure at her wrist, where the bracelet shone. And with a parting wave, she grabbed her books and left, dashing off to her classroom.

* * *

Nighttime found Klaus in a rather incriminating situation – standing on the balcony of the girls' dorm.

For the third time, he rapped his knuckles against the glass. A pair of muffled feminine giggles sounded from within, and then Amelia's face appeared in the window, gesturing for him to wait, before she dashed off, clearly intimidated by his glare.

Finally, Clara appeared, opening the window and stepping out in the night. "Klaus! I missed you today!"

He glared. "Couldn't you be a little quieter so you don't give me away?"

"Oh, sorry!" She clapped a hand over her mouth belatedly. "What are you doing here?"

As loud as she always was, it was a good thing he'd already cast a spell around them to quiet their voices. "I'm here to take my girlfriend out for her birthday. What do you think?" He took her hand and pulled her further out onto the balcony. Behind her, he heard a girlish squeal, clearly Amelia eavesdropping.

"How'd you get up here?" Clara giggled. "The mighty Emperor Prefect, breaking rules and sneaking into the girls' dormitory…"

"Hush, you," he barked. "Don't make it sound more pathetic than it already is." He gestured to where a broom hovered nearby, waiting. "I flew up here."

"Oh." Clara blinked. "It's that easy?"

"It's not hard if you know how to fly." He studied her dress, noting her bare shoulders, and then shrugged off his jacket and put it around her. "Come on. We're going for a ride."

"We are?" Clara gasped.

Klaus shook his head at the sight. She was literally bouncing with excitement. He swung his leg over the broom and gestured to her. "Hop on."

She mounted the broom hesitantly, clasping the handle with both hands in front of her. Klaus rolled his eyes. "Not like that! You'll fall right off. Here," he reached back and positioned her arms around his waist. "Better."

"K-Klaus…this is…"

He smirked, picturing her blush as she squirmed behind him. Then, before she could protest further, the broom began to move, and she clamped her arms around him like a vice. "Hang on, Bunnyhead."

"Eeeek!"

"I told you to be quiet!"

They ascended well above the roof of the dormitory buildings and began to sail through the air. The breeze whistled past their faces. Clara's hold on his waist had become a death grip.

"Klaus…I forgot to tell you I'm afraid of heights!"

Klaus made a noise of exasperation. It was so like her – to dive right into something and completely disregard the danger until it was too late. "Better learn to face that fear right now," he answered. Clara hung on desperately, and he felt pressure on his back where she must have buried her face. But as he slackened the speed, he felt her lift her head and look around.

They flew smoothly over the gardens and then over the woods. It was a beautiful, cool night. The bright moon lit their path, and from where they flew they could now see the entire castle that comprised the Academy, rising up majestically along the shores of the lake.

They paused, hovering to enjoy the view. Clara sighed. "I love this school. I'm so glad I got to stay."

It was a sentiment he shared. Even if she'd failed the Trial there would have been no way he would have let her go, but it was wonderful to be able to see her, speak to her, and touch her every day. Equally rewarding was the chance to help her develop as a wizardess, to tame her significant but rogue talents, and watch her confidence grow.

It was still a long road for her though. "How did your test go?"

She laughed. "Actually pretty well! I think your bracelet gave me good luck."

"Hmph. That wasn't the point. It was supposed to remind you to study harder and concentrate during your spells, or else I'd find out and we'd have to do more training."

"Aww…now I can't think of it the same way anymore!"

He laughed at her petulant tone. "Tell me about the rest of your day."

"It was wonderful! I had lunch with Elias, Yukiya and Luca. Luca even brought me cupcakes!"

Klaus' eye twitched in irritation, and he made a mental note to keep a closer eye on Luca Orlem.

"And after class, Amelia and I gave each other pedicures, and then she gave me a new journal as a present."

He couldn't help but laugh. "Still a kid, I see."

"H-Hey! I'm seventeen now!"

"Didn't sound like it from your description."

"Um…then what do girls do for their birthday where you come from?"

He sighed. "There's usually a ball."

"A ball?!" She sat up, nearly falling off the broom in her excitement, and Klaus' heart seemed to leap out of his chest when she began scrambling for balance. Luckily, she steadied herself, and he growled.

"Clara! You moron…be careful!"

"S-sorry…" she hugged his back closely as he sighed in relief. "But…could you tell me about the ball?"

He shook his head in exasperation as his heart rate slowly returned to normal. "Don't mistake my meaning, Bunnyhead. It's a tedious affair. A lot of bowing and mingling. I won't say anymore."

"Aww. Aren't balls supposed to be fun?"

"Spoken like someone who's never been to a ball," he replied, shuddering at the memory of being swarmed by girls who had no interest in anything but his name and family.

"Not fair! Klaus, will you take me to one someday?"

He began to reply in the negative, and then paused, thinking it over. A ball with Clara… He began to smirk. It might be a refreshing change. Dancing with her might be not be so bad. And, what he hadn't told her was that guests at magical balls frequently gave a demonstration of their magic when they were announced. With Clara…he couldn't even begin to imagine what havoc would ensure. "Maybe," he finally answered, and then began turning the broom around.

She crowed in joy, clearly having spent enough time with him to know that his ambiguous answer signaled a victory for her. "Are we heading back to the dormitory?"

"No," he answered evenly. "One more stop."

* * *

He guided them towards the North Forest, stopping when a certain lake came into view. As they descended, Clara gasped. "This…this is…"

"Yeah." He halted the broom, dismounting smoothly, and then held a hand out to her to help her do the same. He didn't let her hand drop as they began to stroll around the lake shore, taking in the view. There was a mingled expression of wonder and sadness in her face as she looked around.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "But…why did you bring me here, after…"

He tucked her close against him as they regarded the lake, reflecting thousands of stars on its surface. "I know you have bad memories of this place," he murmured, stroking a hand down her back. "I thought maybe if we visited at a peaceful time, and you had some happier memories, your nightmares might get a little better."

She smiled up at him tentatively. "It doesn't feel as terrible as I remember," she began, but then suddenly she froze. "Klaus, look!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of white, and then the unicorn was emerging from the trees, looking as regal and intimidating as ever. It eyed Klaus meaningfully, and Klaus immediately backed away, leaving some distance between himself and Clara.

"Young lady," the unicorn called. Its tone was much friendlier than when Klaus had last spoken to it.

Clara grinned. "Mr. Unicorn! I'm glad you're still okay!"

"I'm glad to see you're still pure." The unicorn huffed, and Clara blinked in confusion. Klaus narrowed his eyes at the dig, clearly meant for him. "Come over here," the unicorn continued. Clara made her way over, each step as hesitant as if walking in a dream.

As he watched, the unicorn lowered its muzzle, clearly addressing Clara directly through her mind. Clara's hand rose to stroke the creature's neck slowly. Then, to his surprise, the unicorn suddenly lowered itself onto its front knees. Eyes wide with astonished delight, Clara clambered onto its back, grabbing a fistful of silvery mane.

Klaus smiled. This was more than he'd asked for, but this unicorn clearly held some fondness for the girl who had saved its life nearly at the cost of her own. He watched them, girl and unicorn, as they cavorted around the lake. Clara seemed to be a confident rider, and her delight was a brilliant thing to see. The unicorn also seemed to be enjoying itself, stride lengthening to a full gallop as the sound of Clara's laughter floated back to Klaus in the still nighttime air.

Finally, they came to a halt, and Clara slid off the unicorn's back. She hugged the pale neck, and the unicorn even lipped her ear with its muzzle.

Klaus's eyebrow rose disapprovingly at that last gesture, and he gave the unicorn a harsh glare. The smug creature snorted at him and then turned, vanishing into the night.

"Klaus!" Clara ran back to him, her cheeks pink with joy and exertion. He caught her in his arms, twirling her around once before setting her back down. "That was amazing!"

His gaze softened at the sight of her, so deliriously happy. "You looked like you were having fun. What did he say to you?"

"That he would remember me and that we might meet again." She smiled up at him. "You did this, didn't you? You asked him to come talk to me. Thank you Klaus!" She rose up on her tiptoes, to brush a kiss against his mouth.

His arms tightened around her, not letting her go. She felt so small and slight, but so full of joy and energy – and yet he could never forget the moment when he'd found her, seconds from certain death, here in this very spot, defiant and brave and terrified.

There was no magic that could resurrect the dead. If he'd been just one minute later, she would not have lived to see this birthday. He was never going to forget that.

Klaus turned to capture her lips fully, and she sighed into their kiss. When they separated, he smiled down at her, caressing her face and enjoying the pink tinge of her blush.

"Happy birthday, Clara."

* * *

They flew back to the dormitory. He deposited her safely on the balcony, and with a kiss to her forehead and a muttered good night, he saw her back to her room, the lights still on. Amelia had clearly stayed up, unable to wait until morning to gossip.

Klaus hovered outside for a few moments. He'd never known the feeling of warmth that had settled in his chest, seemingly permanently, and had never imagined how making someone else happy could leave him feeling so content in turn. After what had happened before with Azusa, he wasn't ever going to take any chances with her safety. She was a magnet for trouble, anyhow.

His thoughts turned to the bracelet. He hadn't told her, but there was protective magic in the bracelet too, just like her pendant. He was working on a pair of earrings that would allow her to communicate with him with just a touch, so she could always reach him if she needed to.

And one day, when she was ready, he would make her a ring. He'd have to think hard about how to give her that one. Silly girl and her love of romantic gestures…plus, it wouldn't be terribly easy to top this birthday. Klaus sighed, but his eyes were soft as he lifted off on his broom.

He would do it. After all, it was worth it to see her smile.


	13. Dreams - Klaus

A baby was crying.

That was important, Clara thought. She had to get up. But her whole body seemed to be weighed down by a visceral, bone-deep exhaustion, and she could barely sustain the energy to stay awake.

As she struggled to open her eyes, she felt a familiar, large hand stroking her hair.

"Bunnyhead," Klaus whispered. "Wake up, sweetheart." His voice was soft, full of a tenderness that was almost uncharacteristic, except that she saw it reflected in his eyes in rare moments when they were alone. "Clara," he called again, as his fingers stroked her cheek. "Open your eyes."

The baby let out another cry, and something instinctive within her seemed to surge forward in response, giving her the energy to finally awaken. She was greeted by the most wondrous sight she'd ever seen – Klaus, sitting by her bedside, gazing down at a little pink bundle, looking utterly lovestruck.

Klaus moved gingerly toward her, mindful not to jostle the bundle in his arms. "Here she is… She's so beautiful." His gaze was warm. "I'm so proud of you, Clara. I know it was hard…you did so well."

 _A baby…what? Ours?_ Clara's mind seemed to spin, and she gazed up at Klaus in wonder. He seemed as dazed and awestruck as she, a far cry from his usual cool, composed self. _Klaus and I…we have a daughter…_ Were they married? Why couldn't she remember their wedding?

 _Wait…this must be…_

As she was about to look down upon the face of the infant, the dream suddenly splintered away, leaving her feeling suddenly bereft. _No…_ she gasped, though she knew by now how these dreams worked. _Let me see her…please…_

Clara awoke, heart pounding. The familiar scene of her dorm room greeted her, Amelia peacefully asleep in the bed across the room. The night was cool and dark, moonlight streaming through the balcony window.

A brilliant smile lit up her expression, and she sat in the night, heart tender with joy for the future she had just glimpsed.

* * *

It was with a mixture of excitement and anxiety that Clara approached the Prefect's office later that afternoon. Her dream had had her distracted throughout all her morning classes, but even the extra homework assignment that Professor Schuyler had given to her couldn't burst her bubble.

At first she couldn't wait to tell Klaus. But now, as she approached his office, she was seized with uncertainty. What if it hadn't been a prophetic dream after all? What if it had just been some figment of her own deep desires, manifested?

Most importantly, what if Klaus didn't feel that same way?

She'd once promised herself she'd never use her gift of time travel to look into the future, but thus far, she couldn't prevent the occasional flashes of foresight that occurred in her sleep. They had been harmless thus far – a hint of what a lecture might cover, for instance, or an inkling of the weather on some unidentifiable day.

This had been very different.

 _I shouldn't tell him,_ she decided. She would hold that dream close to her heart, a secret pearl for her to gaze at over and over again. Although knowing Klaus, he'd sense her distraction and get the truth out of her anyway. She could never keep anything from him – not for long.

She opened the door to the Prefect's office. What she did not expect to see was Klaus, reclined on the Prefect office couch, eyes closed as if asleep. Clara had been guilty of the same offense many times, sometimes with Klaus' approval and sometimes without, but to her knowledge Klaus _never_ napped during the day.

Randy was pacing around the couch. At the sound of her approach, he froze. "Clara!"

She hadn't known what to make of the pink-haired student initially, though he seemed to be friendly enough. He and Klaus certainly had a history, and she had been completely stunned to finally learn that the relentlessly cheerful Randy was actually her idol Serge Durandal, returned to seek redemption for an incident that had occurred several years ago. The unicorn she'd saved had soon followed through on a promise made to Serge several years ago, bestowing a horn fragment to revive the real Randy March, who was recuperating some distance away with family.

In the meantime Serge had decided to remain at the Academy, still retaining the moniker of "Randy March". She'd had a firsthand glimpse of "Randy's" rather unorthodox magic, but to her shock, Klaus had acknowledged him as a second Prefect, which indicated a level of respect that was unprecedented. From Clara's perspective though, Randy wasn't particularly a model Prefect. She'd never seen him teach a class, for instance. It had been something she'd meant to ask about; Klaus got busier and busier, but Randy spent most of his time holed up in the Prefect's office performing bizarre magical experiments, frequently involving his hapless stuffed animal familiar, Taffy.

"Randy?" For Klaus' sake she kept her voice low, though it disguised none of her incredulity. "Is Klaus _asleep_?"

"Clara…Something's wrong…"

"What do you mean? Is Klaus sick?" Anxiously she knelt down beside the couch, putting a head to Klaus' forehead. "He doesn't feel feverish…"

"No…not that…" Clara glanced up at Randy, feeling suddenly uneasy. He looked more upset than she'd ever seen him.

Clara reached out to poke Klaus' arm. "Klaus? Hey!"

No response.

"Klaus? Wake up!" She gently shook his shoulders. "Klaus!" But he stayed unresponsive.

"It won't work," Randy moaned.

Clara suddenly remembered the night she'd found her parents this way – still and cold. She shuddered, attempting to fight off a wave of panic, and then put her ear to Klaus' chest. His heart was beating, and he was breathing. She concentrated on the steadiness of his heartbeat, feeling his breaths tickle her hair, just as they did when he teased her with kisses. He was just sleeping, she reminded herself desperately. He was alive.

She whirled around to face Randy. "What's wrong with him? What happened?"

"He ate something I left lying around," Randy admitted shamefully. "It was supposed to be a candy that gives you good dreams…but I hadn't perfected it yet…and now he won't wake up!" Randy knelt down next to Clara, gazing at Klaus in horror.

"Randy…no…" Clara's whole body went cold. "No…there has to be a way! Don't you know a spell that can fix this?"

Randy shook his head. "It's dangerous to try something like that on a person. Right now he's only sleeping, but if a spell interferes with the sleep magic, there could be a rebound…"

"If it's so dangerous, then why would you leave something like that lying around in the first place?!"

"I was trying to make something for Randy. I…he was having nightmares…"

Clara wanted to beat her fists against the wall. Randy's good intentions had backfired tremendously, and Klaus was paying the price. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. _Think! Klaus would know how to fix this…what would he do?_

"I wish I could have just warned him ahead of time…" Randy murmured.

Clara gasped. "That's it! We just have to warn him before he eats it!"

Randy stared at her. "You mean…go back in time?"

Having been present when they'd faced off against Azusa, Randy was one of the few people who knew about Clara's nascent time magic abilities. Klaus had kept it a secret to all but a select unavoidable few, mainly for Clara's protection.

Now, Clara's hand went to her neck, stroking the pendant that Klaus had given her. Warmed by her skin, it was a soothing presence. He'd replenished the magic in it, but had made her promise not to tamper with time magic again – not until he could secure the training she'd need to ensure it was never a danger to her.

Clara's hands clutched at Klaus' jacket. "I know it's risky. But it worked when I needed it to before. I have to take that chance again! I won't give up on him, ever!"

As Randy watched her, a flash of longing crossed his expression, but he cast his eyes downward and nodded. From one of his pockets, he pulled out a ring and gave it to her. "Take this."

Clara studied it. It was an unobtrusive brown band with a small amber stone. "What is it?"

"It's a magical tool for disguise." Randy's brow furrowed. "You know how time travel works. You can't do anything that'll change the timeline because it might create a paradox. This time, the adjustment should be simple enough…Just travel to any day this past year and tell him not to eat the candy. He'll recognize and listen to you…" Randy trailed off for a moment. "He might be really upset afterwards though. But if you run into a tricky situation, you can use that ring to disguise yourself, and no one will know it's you."

"Okay." She tucked the little ring into a pocket. "I'll do my best."

Randy's expression was sober. "I'm so sorry. I'll do anything I can to make this right."

Clara squeezed her eyes tight. "It's alright. I'll bring him back." She moved back over to where Klaus lay on the couch. Reaching out, she stroked a lock of blond hair away from his face. It was frightening to see him like this when he'd always been such a large, powerful presence. Heedless of Randy watching her, she leaned over to kiss Klaus' cheek. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

She stepped back, stroking the pendant around her neck, and then concentrated. _I have to warn Klaus,_ she thought. _Please, take me back to a time when I can warn him…_

The despair that she'd fought back earlier now seemed to rise to engulf her. _No_ , she thought. _I can do this…I have to help him…_ Suddenly the world began to melt away.

She closed her eyes and hoped.

* * *

When the world reformed around her, it looked like she had ended up in the North Forest. As she made her way towards the forest's edge, a telltale flash of pink caught her eye. She dove behind a tree to avoid being seen.

"I can't believe you," she heard a familiar voice say. "How could you let this happen?"

It was Klaus. She peeked out from behind the tree. Klaus and Randystood there, facing each other. She immediately noticed that Klaus wasn't wearing his Prefect attire – no special uniform, and no necklace. In the regular blue student uniform, he otherwise resembled Elias, but even if she wasn't already able to tell them apart at a glance, the fierce intensity in his gaze was a dead giveaway that this was undoubtedly Klaus.

But…if Klaus wasn't a Prefect, and Randy – no, Serge - was a student…how far back had she gone?

Across from Klaus, Serge's body was bowed in shame. "It was an accident…" Serge murmured. "I'll find a way to revive him! No matter what it takes…"

Klaus' eyes narrowed in fury. The loathing in his expression was terrifying, but Clara could sense a deep pain coming from him as well. "If I'd been there," he hissed, "I'd have figured out a way to save Randy. You're nothing but a murderer, Serge Durandal."

Serge's body jerked as if he'd been slapped. Klaus whirled decisively, moving past him back towards the school. And Clara gasped in horror. She'd heard enough to know exactly how far she'd jumped. How was she going to warn him now? Klaus wouldn't even know who she was, much less listen to a cryptic warning from a strange girl. It was the wrong timeframe entirely. She had to get out of here!

Clara closed her eyes and tried to activate the magic in the necklace again. To her horror, the jewel only flickered dully in response. _Oh no…it's not enough! Am I…stuck here?_ Her body went cold with panic. _No…I'll figure something out…_ Her mind cast about for ideas. _Maybe Headmaster Randolph will believe me…_

Before her, Serge fell to his knees, clutching his head. Watching him obviously suffering, Clara's heart wrenched in sympathy. Without thinking she stepped towards him.

At the sound of her footsteps, he started. "Who's there?"

 _Oh no! I forgot – I can't let him see me like this!_ Panicking, she jammed Randy's ring onto her finger. In a moment, the world seemed to reorient. The world suddenly faded to gray, and everything seemed just a little taller. She stared down at herself. Paws, brown fur…

She had turned into a dog.

Clara groaned, her newly canine vocal chords processing the sound as a whine instead. Randy had never explained exactly what kind of disguise the ring bestowed. _Randy…your ridiculous magic…_

Serge was watching her blankly. "A dog? I've never seen you before." He gave a small smile. "You look friendly. Won't you come over here?" He reached a hand out in her direction.

 _At least it's an effective disguise…_ As she trotted towards Serge, she heard the jingling of metal around her neck - her pendant. And to her relief, the ring had transformed into an innocuous-looking collar. _It's alright. I can figure this out. I just have to act like a dog for now…_

She nosed Serge's hand politely and he began to scratch her ears. Something in his expression lightened, and he sighed. "What a nice puppy. Where did you come from?"

She gave a meaningless bark, purposefully refraining from saying anything that he might understand. There had been a rumor that Serge Durandal could speak to animals, something that she'd never verified with the man himself, but she couldn't risk discovery now. She felt a frisson of fear as she remembered that this transformation magic was his to begin with. _Please don't figure this out…_

Serge's brow furrowed. "How strange…I can't understand you at all. I wonder…" His hand began to reach for her collar, and Clara twisted away in a panic, barking loudly in protest. Serge laughed sheepishly and threw his hands up. "You don't like that, hmm? Sorry. I won't do it again." His gaze grew distant, and he looked down at the ground.

Clara approached him again, and this time sat by his feet.

"Randy…it was all my fault." Serge continued to stroke her ears. "And now Klaus hates me too… He's right. I'm a murderer…"

She placed her head on his knee. Her heart felt heavy, knowing that he'd have to endure six years of loneliness. They sat together, until a bell rang somewhere from within the school.

 _I should go find Klaus,_ Clara remembered, and she stood on all fours, shaking out her fur.

"Do you have somewhere to go?" Serge smiled shakily. "Thank you for staying with me. I feel a little better." She wagged her tail, and Serge patted her head once more. "I'll save Randy," he vowed quietly. His gaze turned towards the North Forest. "They say there are unicorns that live here. I wonder…"

With a final woof, Clara turned and ran towards the school, leaving Serge behind.

* * *

Where could Klaus be? Clara's first thought was the Prefect's office, but of course that didn't make sense here. He was a normal student, and he could be anywhere.

 _Well, I'm a dog, aren't I? Maybe I can use my nose…_

She sniffed around the halls of the school, almost reeling from the bouquet of scents. Dogs were incredible, she thought, as she attempted to pick through the myriad smells. Hundreds of students, and yet each one had a smell as distinct as if she were staring at strands of thread, each with a brilliantly unique color. And human or canine, Clara knew the smell of Klaus. He smelled of tea leaves, and books, with a hint of sugar and an unnamable masculine undertone that made her knees weak and her belly quiver when she was in his arms. Now, in canine form, she could recognize that scent and follow it like a beacon. It led her to the Archives.

She pawed open the door, and there he was, sitting at a large table, surrounded by piles of old books. At the sound of the door opening, he turned and paused with a frown. "Leave me alone…a dog?"

She froze. It had been a long time since she'd been the recipient of his openly hostile glare – not since they'd become lovers. _Scary!_ She whined, ears flattening, and stared up at him pathetically.

"I'm not falling for it," he declared, looking unimpressed. "You must be a student in disguise."

 _Ugh!_ Clara huffed. _Nothing gets past him! I have to find another way…_ But before she could escape, he'd lunged forward and grabbed her collar. She yelped as he lifted her up effortlessly. _Oh no!_

"Forget it," he said, voice echoing harshly in the large room. "You're not getting away." And then he grabbed his wand. "Supasaman Mundi!"

 _It's over…_ Clara thought, heart seizing in panic. He was going to reveal her disguise, and it was going to ruin everything. _Klaus…no…_

But just the spell reached her, it suddenly faded. And then she felt the pendant around her neck pulse warmly, replete with magical power once more.

Klaus frowned, surprised. "It…didn't work? You're a real dog?"

 _Of course…my necklace absorbed his spell…because it's_ his _magic power…_ She was equally stunned, but she wasn't going to waste this stroke of luck. _I've got to distract him so he won't try something else!_ The only thing she could think of was to begin licking his face hysterically. _It's like kissing him over and over again…This is so embarrassing, but I have no choice!_

"Whoa – hey! What are you doing! Stop!" Klaus' arms tightened around her to restrain her, even as he tried to push her muzzle away. "Geez – relax!" She whined again, tucking her chin and giving him her best puppy dog eyes. He stared down at her in consternation. "Whatever you are, you're lucky you're cute," he muttered. "Fine. I'll deal with you later." His expression grew hard and flinty again as he set Clara down on a seat next to him. "But stay quiet. I have to figure this out, anyway…"

Relieved, Clara peered over at the notes he was making. Reading them was harder than she'd expected – her field of vision was warped. _Potential Petrification Cures,_ she read painstakingly at the top of his page. Of course…he was trying to cure Randy too.

"I have to figure this out," Klaus repeated, wand moving quickly as he marked a few pages. Even now he possessed an intensity that seemed to define his every action. And while he looked a little younger than she was used to, he was still so incredibly handsome that she almost couldn't look away. But there was a haunted desperation there as well, fueled by a deep-seated rage, that made her incredibly sad.

Watching him and knowing of the ultimate futility of his task, she couldn't help but lean over to nuzzle his hand.

He paused. "Stop distracting me, you mangy mutt," he murmured, even as his hand came down to caress her fur.

Clara smiled inwardly. It had always been this way with Klaus. No matter what nasty things came out of his mouth, his actions never lied. Once she'd taken a hard tumble off a tree limb that she'd insisted on climbing despite his objections. Afterwards, as she lay dazed on the ground, he'd insulted her coordination and terrible judgment, and complained repeatedly that she was far more trouble than she was worth. Meanwhile, his hands had tenderly probed her head and spine for injury, and then he'd held her and stroked her back over and over again, not letting go even when she could stand on her own again.

Now, he kept one hand on her furry neck, scratching lightly. He liked dogs, she remembered. He and Elias had had one growing up. Unable to resist, she took a chance, moving forward to lay her head against his chest.

"Shameless, aren't you?" He remained stiff for a moment, glancing around the empty archives, and then sighed, both arms coming to surround her.

Gradually, she felt him relax. They sat together for several moments until the silence was punctuated by his voice.

"Why did this happen?" Klaus whispered into her fur. "Randy was my friend." His voice broke, for just a moment. "My only friend."

She remained still, letting him take comfort from her, even as her own heart stung at the anguish in his voice. _Klaus…_ She'd forgotten that before her, Klaus had been entirely alone. He'd claimed to prefer it that way, but…

She suddenly pictured the way he'd looked at her on the day she'd passed the Trial. That was the happy Klaus she remembered – teasing, and content, and a little smug. And then she remembered the Klaus of her dream, gazing upon his wife and newborn daughter like they were the center of his world.

She couldn't stay. But she would save him in her own time. She took a deep inhale, breathing in his scent.

And then of course, he had to ruin the moment. "What's with those ridiculously long ears?" Klaus pulled back, gazing at her face. "You look like such a moron."

 _Klaus! So mean!_ With an indignant huff, Clara pulled away, sliding out of his arms and glaring up at him balefully. He laughed. "You're definitely not an ordinary dog," he muttered. "But thanks for visiting me anyway." He gave her one more rub on the head, before turning back to his reading.

Clara lifted herself onto the table, looking around at the books that Klaus had gathered. He was searching for a paralysis cure…maybe something here would talk about magical sleep conditions as well? She nosed open a random book. As she tried to make out the words on the page, she heard Klaus muttering aloud as he read next to her.

"Sometimes, the most complicated of conditions possesses a surprisingly simple cure. Particularly in the case of magic used to induce a mental state, like dreaming, triggering a physiological response can dispel the condition entirely." Klaus growled in frustration. "Utterly useless." And he slammed the book shut, tossing it aside.

Clara froze. _Did I just hear…_ Heart pounding, she lunged at the discarded book, paws scrabbling at the pages, nearly tearing them in her haste. She was barely aware of Klaus' startled exclamation as she searched for the page he'd read from. _Dreams, dreams…here it is!_

 _For example, in the instance of a magically-induced dream state, a simple push off the bed will induce the sensation of falling, even within the dream itself. This will trigger the physiological response to awaken, negating the need for magical intervention entirely._

Clara almost cried with joy. _That was it? So all I have to do is…_

She felt a hand close around her collar, as Klaus pulled her back. "A dog that reads?" he asked, sarcastically. "I don't think so. Now I _really_ need to know where you came from." He peered at her closely. "There's magic in this collar. I know it."

 _No!_ Clara yelped in distress. _Sorry, Klaus! I have to go!_ She reared backwards, and he accidentally released the collar in surprise, clearly not expecting her to struggle now after her prior tameness. Clara ducked under a bench where he couldn't follow, and from there, she bolted towards the door.

She heard him calling out after her, but she couldn't stop. There was no way she could escape if he used magic, so she had no time to lose. As quickly as she could, she sprinted through the hall, ducking between the legs of several students and undoubtedly causing a few accidents, before finally turning the corner out of his line of sight.

She continued to run, dashing past the lake and into the woods again. Finally, she relaxed, sagging against a tree stump. Not even waiting to catch her breath, she closed her eyes, calling upon the newly-filled magic in the necklace, willing herself to return to her own time…and praying that this time, the magic worked as intended.

 _I need to see Klaus…I need to see him…_

* * *

"Clara!"

Randy's exclamation was the first thing she heard, and as she saw the familiar interior of the Prefect's office, she collapsed to the ground in relief. Randy rushed over, unclasping Clara's magical collar, and with a flash of light, she was back in her human form.

"Randy…I figured it out!" She ran over to Klaus, and then groaned. "He's going to be reallllly mad at me for this one…"

And Clara, with all her strength, pushed Klaus off the couch. Klaus landed on the carpeted floor with a thump. His eyes sprang open.

"What the hell was that for?!"

"Klaus!" Clara ran over to throw her arms around him. "Thank goodness! It worked!" Her eyes filled with tears of relief, and she couldn't hold back a little sob.

"Clara…what…why are you crying?" Klaus stared at her, looking disoriented. Oddly his gaze dropped quizzically down to study her midsection, before he noticed Randy hovering over them. Klaus stood, pulling Clara up with him.

Randy hung his head. "Sorry Klaus…I messed up really badly. But Clara saved the day!"

Klaus glared. "Was it that stupid candy? It wasn't even that good!"

Clara buried her face in Klaus' chest, still giddy with relief. "You wouldn't wake up…Klaus, it was so scary!"

Klaus' hands immediately began to caress her back. But as his fingers traced over her necklace, he went still. "The magic…it's empty?" Suddenly his eyebrow twitched, and his fingers suddenly gripped her chin, tilting it up so that she looked him in the eye. "Don't tell me…Clara. _Did you try to travel through time_?"

"Eep…um…sort of…"

There was a deathly silence. Both Clara and Randy braced themselves.

" _Clara! You idiot!_ Why would you do that? That could have been insanely dangerous!" Even as Klaus yelled at her, his arms were pulling her closer. He then leveled a glare at Randy. "And you _let_ her do this? What the _hell_ were you thinking?!"

"There wasn't a choice!" Clara protested, staring up at him tearfully. "Randy said we couldn't use magic on you to wake you up in case the spells reacted badly to each other!"

"Then why didn't you just go get a professor?!"

Stunned, Clara and Randy looked at each other blankly.

"Um…g-good question?" Randy stuttered weakly.

"I bet the thought didn't even occur to you," Klaus spat. "You both clearly lack the ability to think in a crisis." As he clutched Clara to him, Klaus glowered at Randy. "I'm disappointed in you more than anything, Randy. How could you put her in danger like that?"

Randy closed his eyes. "I'm sorry…." He turned away. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I panicked. I was afraid that I'd hurt another one of my friends, and I couldn't think about anything else…." He sat miserably with his head in his hands. "I know you'll never forgive me for having Clara do that…but I would have tried anything."

"Randy…" Clara reached out to him. "It's alright. I'm okay. Nothing happened."

"No," Klaus interrupted. "It's _not_ okay." He stood, grabbing Randy by the shoulder and forcing the pink-haired man to look him in the eye. "It's _not_ okay," he repeated. "You don't understand. If something ever happened to me, you're the _only one_ I trust to protect Clara."

Randy stared back. "Klaus…"

"Why else do you think I let you become a Prefect?" Klaus continued. "There's no other student whose magic can compete with mine. But instead, you waste your talents on these stupid experiments. And then you let my precious girl get into a dangerous, potentially fatal situation because of a careless mistake _you_ made." He paused for breath. " _Can you understand why I'm angry_?"

"Klaus," Clara begged, unable to stand Randy's look of guilt. "Please…Randy only wanted to help. Plus, he saved me, by giving this ring."

Klaus' eyebrow rose. "What does that do?"

"Umm…" Clara blushed. "It turned me into a dog." She put it on, and then suddenly, the dog appeared before them, tailed tucked and whining.

Klaus stared, shocked into speechlessness for several moments. _"…You_ were that dog?"

Clara nodded her head, and then stared up at him pitifully. The puppy dog eyes had worked on him once…maybe this time…

"Unbelievable," he muttered. And then he reached down to scoop her up. She whined in distress. "You're not getting off easy this time," he warned, as he stalked out of the Prefect's office.

* * *

Klaus took her to the banks of the lake where they could be alone. On the way, he used his Prefect's authority to excuse her from her afternoon classes. And then, for the next hour, he proceeded to yell at her. Brutally. Without taking off the collar.

" _Do you have no sense of preservation whatsoever? What if something happened to you? Did you even take half a minute to think this through?"_

It went on and on. And stuck as a dog, she couldn't even talk back.

Finally, he seemed to run out of steam. He placed his hands around her neck, slipping the collar off her head. She transformed back and then gratefully collapsed back into the grass. "Whew…"

"I should have made you stay like that for the rest of the day," Klaus muttered. But his hands were on her head, stroking her pigtails.

They sat together for several more moments before Clara glanced up at him, worry in her eyes. "You'll talk to Randy again, won't you? He really worried about you."

Klaus grunted noncommittally.

"You didn't see him, Klaus! He was so upset! You were so mean to him…"

Klaus leveled a quelling gaze at her and she stared right back at him indignantly. After a moment, he rolled his eyes. "How boring. You don't get half as scared as you used to. I'll need to work harder to see that troubled face of yours again."

Clara groaned. "You really don't need to…"

After a pause, he continued. "Randy's magical talent is incredible. Awe-inspiring. What's more, he has a natural creativity and an innovative approach to it. And he's a kind-hearted person, which is good, because if he wanted to, he could be a truly terrifying dark wizard." Klaus let out a long exhale. "What's more terrifying, though, is the fact that Randy is ridiculously irresponsible. And when you have that much magic…you have to be very, very responsible, or else other people get hurt." Klaus shook his head. "I've been trying to teach him that lesson for a very long time now. Maybe this time it worked…"

"Oh." Then Clara blinked. "…Wait!"

"Hmm?"

Clara stared at Klaus, frowning. "Did you just say that you were trying to teach him a lesson?"

Klaus stared at her. "Of course. Why do you think I ate that candy?"

"Wha-WHAAAAT? You did it on _purpose?_ "

Klaus looked deeply offended. "…did you actually think I'd do something as moronic as eating a random candy left on a desk by Randy March, of all people, _by mistake_?"

She wasn't going to answer that, of course, but he already knew. She groaned. "And to think I was so worried…"

"I can't believe you underestimated me like that. I should be insulted," Klaus muttered. "It was only to give him a scare. Of course, I didn't expect him to get _you_ involved and make it so much more complicated," he continued, looking increasingly irritated. "I'm more angry with Randy about that than anything."

Clara faltered. "…I think he was really desperate, Klaus. He was really, really worried about you."

Klaus said nothing, gazing down at the brown ring now in his hands. He spun it around on his fingers, thumb grazing over the yellow stone.

"The whole thing was really not a bad idea, if you'd been actually trained in time magic," he admitted finally.

Clara's brow rose. "R-really?"

Klaus nodded. "Did you know what time traveling wizards do? They're essentially spies. They go back, gather information, and then get out. But they can't talk to people, so they always use their magic in conjunction with some kind of cloaking spell or disguise." His eyes were distant. "Like you did, except they're much less unbelievably terrible at it."

"Aww…" She made a pout. "You liked that doggy! Don't lie to me!"

Klaus chuckled. "Maybe. I didn't know it back then, but it looked like you, with the stupid face and the bunny ears."

"…So mean…"

They sat in silence for a little while, Clara happily cuddled against his side. "Klaus," she murmured.

"What is it?"

"Randy said that the candy was supposed to give you good dreams. So what did you dream about when you were sleeping?"

He stiffened. When she looked up at him, his cheeks had gone undeniably pink.

Clara gasped aloud. Klaus almost never blushed, but that meant…

" _Klaus!_ " she groaned. "Was it _that_ kind of dream?"

His cheeks become noticeably redder. "What kind of insolent question is that?"

"Aww…but you didn't say no! That means…" Clara flinched, and then covered her ears. "Never mind! Don't tell me about it!"

She felt his hands firmly remove hers from where they were clamped around her head. "You are a true fool," he muttered. "It wasn't like that at all."

"…Oh." Clara relaxed a little, face still pink. "Then…"

"Come here." Without warning, Klaus picked her up and set her on his lap. She stared up at him in surprise, as a strange expression – a flash of longing? – crossed his face.

"I was dreaming…" he hesitated, and suddenly his gaze dropped to her midsection. He tucked his head so that he was whispering into her ear, as if it was something too precious to say aloud. "You. Me. And here…" his hand grazed her abdomen. "Our daughter."

Clara's heart began to pound, tender aching beats that resounded in her ears. "Tell me," she whispered.

He pulled her even closer, rocking her gently in his embrace. "We were older. She was coming soon, maybe in a month, and we were so excited." He pressed a kiss against her hair. "You looked so beautiful. Glowing. Round." He laughed. "Adorable."

"Klaus…" Clara's eyes were filled with tears. She stared up at him. "Last night…I had a dream. And she was in it."

Klaus stared at her. "What kind of dream?" he asked, very slowly.

Clara smiled. "One of _those_ dreams. We'd just had her. I was waking up, and you were holding her. It ended before I could see her face, but…" She tucked her head against his neck shyly. "She's real. Or she's going to be, one day."

The next thing she knew, she was being hugged so hard that she almost couldn't breathe. But when she looked into his face, what took her breath away was the incandescent joy in Klaus' expression.


	14. Wedding - Elias

Summary: In another lifetime, Klaus and Clara fell in love. But not in this one. Elias x MC, from Klaus' point of view.

"And now introducing for the first time…Mr. and Mrs. Elias Goldstein!"

There was a thunderous rush of cheers and applause, as the newlywed bride and groom began to make their way down the aisle, arm in arm. The pink flush on Clara's face was rather expected of a bride on such an occasion, but the groom was blushing just as hard. Elias looked flummoxed, as if stunned to hear himself and his beloved addressed by that combined moniker for the first time.

From where he stood behind them in the wedding party, Klaus couldn't help but smile fondly at Elias' obvious mortification. At least his little brother had held up alright throughout the ceremony itself. Elias had stammered through the beginning of his vows, until Clara had deviated from the script and reached out to squeeze his hand. There had been a long moment of silence, as they gazed at each other, when Klaus had had to turn away. And then Elias had cleared his throat and continued, his words of love ringing with newfound confidence throughout the church, sonorous and heartfelt.

Pausing only for a moment to take the arm of Clara's maid of honor Amelia, Klaus followed them down the aisle.

The wedding reception went by in a blur. It was not a typical reception, as Clara had no family to speak of, but the sadness of that reality was eclipsed by the joy that his own family showed upon accepting her as their daughter. As the best man, he gave the first toast. He did an admirable job, Klaus thought, telling a couple of choice stories that had Elias squirming in his seat and turning scarlet, and then promising Clara that as a new little sister, she would not be exempted from a lifetime of the same treatment. Klaus had been trained since birth for these kinds of occasions, after all. They were all performances, to some extent, but the joy of the newlyweds shone genuinely with each good wish. Throughout, their hands remained clasped for all to see.

About an hour later, he found himself facing Clara, resplendent in her wedding gown, with wildflowers adorning her hair. His father had proposed a dance between Klaus and his new sister.

"Of course!" Clara grinned. As she stepped forward, she accidentally tripped over the hem of her gown, and squealed. Several hands reached forward to steady her, but it was into Klaus' arms that she fell.

She stared up at him, flushed and stunned and perhaps a little inebriated, and he had to take an extra breath of air before he remembered where he was. "I'm impressed," he began in a deadpan tone, "that that was only the first time you tripped today, Bunnyhead. I expected much worse from you."

"Awww…" Clara laughed sheepishly. "Go easy on me today!"

Clara was not by any means a sophisticated dancer, though he knew she and Elias had practiced often before their wedding. Klaus kept the steps simple, guiding her lightly with the arm he had around her back. They said nothing for the first half, until he heard, "How are you doing, Klaus?"

"Hmm?" Caught off-guard, he looked down.

She was peering up at him concernedly. "Are you okay? Don't you hate these kinds of big events?"

He smiled ruefully, indicating the people around them. "You know how it is. Half these people are acquaintances my parents felt obligated to invite. Elias doesn't even know most of them."

Clara nodded. "I would have liked something smaller…just our friends and family. But Elias was worried that your parents would be upset."

"That's how weddings are. The bride and groom are always worrying about making other people happy." He spun her around, and she giggled, and he was instantly reminded of the schoolgirl she once had been.

He'd first seen her peering around his brother's shoulder from the doorway to the Prefect's office. Elias had stammered through the introduction – " _Not just my Buddy…s-she's my g-g-girlfriend."_ – and then Clara had looked up at him, with an expression halfway between curiosity and terror. He was instantly reminded of a little rabbit, and the initial impression did not go away even minutes later, when she rose unhesitatingly to defend Elias after Klaus had said something purposefully insensitive.

A brave little bunny. He had been satisfied, and a little intrigued, that Elias had attached himself to a girl who, though simple, had the courage that he himself lacked.

That should have been the first warning sign.

The next time he'd seen her it'd just slipped out. "Bunnyhead." He was surprised at his own uncharacteristic slip, almost as shocked as Elias had been, that his terrifying older brother had actually deigned to give a _nickname_ to his girlfriend.

And within days, Klaus had known.

But within those same days, and over the next few weeks and months, he'd watched Elias, with Clara at his side like a shadow. Though he'd been effervescently cheerful as a boy, there had been a part of Elias that seemed to have shriveled and hidden away as he'd grown into a young man - his self-confidence, or maybe his courage – and Klaus' attempts to force that part back to life had never borne fruit. But as Clara's joy and love nurtured his little brother like the sun, Elias had flourished.

And now, here they were.

Clara was back in Klaus' arms now, cheeks flushed from the spin. "What about you, Klaus?" she asked.

"What about me?"

She laughed. "It's your turn next. I know you act mean and scare everyone away, but you're a nice person on the inside!" Then Clara sobered a little. "We worried about you, you know. And Elias won't tell you in words, but he loves you very much."

"I know." Klaus forced a small smile. "Don't worry about anything else. This is your wedding day. Enjoy your time with Elias today. Everyone's here to celebrate you."

Clara beamed at him triumphantly. "See what I mean? A nice person!" And she winked. "No matter the stories Elias tells about you sometimes, I'm so happy you're my brother."

The dance ended, and he let Clara scamper off to find her husband. Another dance began, this time to a faster beat, and he saw Clara dragging a halfheartedly-protesting Elias onto the dance floor.

He turned and excused himself.

* * *

"Klaus. There you are."

Elias had poked his head around a corner, and now approached Klaus on the balcony where'd he'd been watching the festivities slowly die down.

As Elias stood next to him, Klaus noticed that his brother's cravat was crooked, and without thinking, he reached out to straighten it.

Elias laughed. "Ah…thanks." He took a breath, clearly hesitating. "I…uh…"

"Spit it out."

For a moment, it was as if Elias had reverted back to the nervous first-year he'd once been, cringing in the office of the Emperor Prefect. "I-I j-just wanted to t-thank you. For everything."

Klaus stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"Clara." Elias looked downs sheepishly, before meeting Klaus' gaze. "For supporting us all this time. To be honest…I didn't know what you'd think, at the beginning. I didn't expect you to like her, at all. She's so…"

"…Klutzy? Loud? Unbelievably moronic?"

Elias glared. "That's my wife you're talking about now!"

"Pffft…..hahahaha!"

The two brothers both bent over, laughing hard. "You know it's the truth," Klaus managed, in between peals of laughter.

"Yeah," Elias snorted. "When I first saw her…she'd accidentally cast legs on the boys' dorm door and she was chasing it around, yelling like an idiot…" He sighed. "I sometimes still can't believe it. That she was what I needed all along."

Klaus put his hand on Elias' shoulder. "I'm happy for you. You know that?"

"Yeah." Elias put his hand over Klaus' and squeezed quickly, turning a little pink. "Thanks. It means a lot to me, coming from you."

They stood in silence. Elias was gazing over the balcony, clearly looking for his new wife. Klaus nudged his brother. "Why don't you go back downstairs and enjoy yourself now? You've still got tonight to look forward to." Unable to resist, he grinned. "You all prepared? Need some last minute brotherly advice?"

Elias blanched, and then flushed red. "N-No! I'll be just fine!"

Klaus smirked as Elias made his escape, hurriedly slipping out a side door. Moments later he was back down below, making his way across the lawn. Clara spotted him from afar and lit up like a candle, hands reaching towards him.

Klaus watched his brother as he rejoined his new wife. Elias looked a little worn out from the long day, but there was an underlying look of contentment that Klaus had rarely seen on him before.

Happiness. It was a good look for Elias.

It was worth it.


	15. Helpless - Elias

Helpless.

That was his first impression of his newborn daughter. From the whimpering cries to the flailing limbs, Elias had never seen anything so helpless in his life – until he was faced with the impossible task of getting her to fall asleep, and realized very quickly that _he_ was the helpless one.

"Hush, princess," Elias pleaded, as he paced back and forth across the nursery carpet for what might have been the thousandth time. "Please…go back to sleep. And let Daddy go back to sleep too. _Pleease_."

Poppy's cries grew louder, her face scrunching up in inexplicable anguish. Elias glanced worriedly in the direction of the bedroom that he and Clara shared. His wife was exhausted, not having had a chance to fully recover since their daughter's birth several days ago. "Shh…don't wake Mommy up," he murmured. Poppy showed no signs of compliance.

Elias looked around again, making sure that they were truly alone, before he began to sing. Too exhausted to contemplate song choices, he sang the first thing that came to mind – some lullaby he'd heard about the sheer lengths of desperation one parent went to in order to bribe his child to be quiet. A mockingbird, a diamond ring, a billy goat. Through his haze of fatigue, as he half-sang, half-hummed, Elias had a sudden flash of insight, realizing that all these were things he would actually do if only his precious baby girl would just. Shut. Up _._

 _I get it now. I completely and totally get it._

To his astonishment, by the end of the song, she was quiet. He looked down at her, and found himself held captive by the sight. Her little brown wisps of hair were clearly Clara's, and Elias' own mother had sworn that Poppy's blue eyes would turn violet before her first birthday, just as had happened with all three of her sons.

Now, those little eyes were slowly drooping shut, her mouth going slack. She looked rather dopey, and with a chuckle, Elias was suddenly reminded of Clara, falling asleep in numerous classes years ago. He felt a wave of tenderness, and as he watched his sleeping daughter, he realized that it was helplessness of another sort, this love he felt for the little child they'd created together.

Once he'd quailed under the responsibility that he'd inherited merely by way of his name. This was a different burden, bundled into a deceptively adorable package. But the responsibility of being a father was far more terrifying than being a Goldstein ever had been.

He wouldn't have had it any other way.


	16. Firsts - Klaus

"Give me a treat or I'll cast a spell on you."

It was far from the first time Klaus had uttered those words. It was, however, the first time he'd ever said them in a broom closet.

He'd selected the vampire costume purposefully, looking for something that would suit his personality. A creature of the night that fed on the blood of the innocent? It seemed fitting. And when he saw the matching white dress and pictured how it would look on Clara, a pearly counterpoint to his darkness… well, it had been perfect.

He couldn't even remember what had happened at the actual party. In any case, it was the same old drivel each year – a mediocre skit, a mad rush for the catered food, candy everywhere, and some magically-enhanced effects. A haunted house had been erected on one side of the room, and the occasional shriek sounded from within.

Clara loved it all, of course, and for her sake they'd stayed for a good hour. They'd made their greetings to her friends – Elias, in a mummy costume that was falling apart, and Yukiya, in a werewolf getup, distracted by his own furry ears. Then they'd been ambushed by Randy, who'd been even more unmanageable than usual, clearly under the influence of far too much sugar. Klaus had even tolerated the stupid haunted house, determinedly marching through and mentally identifying every spell while Clara shrieked and clung to him like a barnacle. It had been worth it if only for her expressions of sheer terror.

At some point, Klaus had lost patience with the whole deal and they'd wandered off alone, strolling the perimeter of the large room together in the shadows. Clara had seen something through the window – a firefly owl, or something equally insignificant, and as she stood there pointing, a shaft of moonlight had broken through the clouds and illuminated her figure.

In her white dress she'd looked so stunning that he couldn't resist stealing up behind her. "Give me a treat or I'll cast a spell on you," he'd all but purred into her ear. Though she was the image of purity in her dress, in his mind's eye he was suddenly remembering her in the wickedly revealing devil's costume that she'd worn into his office earlier that day. He couldn't get the sight of her thighs – creamy, lovely, slender – out of his head.

She'd blinked, staring up at him, clearly at a loss. And then, with a murmured declaration – "I'll take that treat myself, then" – he'd leaned down and sank his teeth into her neck.

He didn't bite hard. It was just a momentary pressure, designed to give her nothing but a thrill. He'd expected her to squeal, pull away and blush, as always.

Instead, she'd gasped, jolted, and gone still. As he'd soothed the bite mark with a kiss, his mouth had grazed her pulse point. Underneath his lips, her heartbeat was fluttering frantically, faster and faster.

When he'd turned her to face him, he was stunned to see that her eyes had gone dark. And when he saw the expression on her face, his whole body had jerked forward towards her, as if moving on its own. Suddenly, he was reminded of how long he'd been holding himself back for her, and heat seemed to roar in his ears. His own desire rose and responded, a steady rhythm that seemed to resound with each beat of his heart. _Finally, finally…_

Then he heard her voice. "Klaus…?" she whispered, sounding confused. "What's…happening?"

And with a jolt, he'd realized. This was a _first._

He had backed down immediately, holding her steady against his chest even as his own heartbeat drummed loudly in his ears. Around them the clamor of the party went on. He had to get her out of here – somewhere private, somewhere they could talk, somewhere no one else would see that look on her face. Even as he thought that, a loud "Boo!" sounded from behind them, making Clara jump. Randy's stuffed animal familiar Taffy, dressed as a ghost, had suddenly decided to make an appearance, and now flew in cheerful circles above their heads.

"Talk about a mood killer," Klaus muttered to himself. Ignoring Taffy's nonsensical babbling, he'd tucked Clara under his arm, turned her around and marched them both out of the room. And then, as he strode through the halls, he pulled them into the first private place he found.

It turned out to be a broom closet.

* * *

"Klaus," Clara whispered. "Why are we in here?" Her eyes darted around the tiny room nervously, straining to see in the dark.

With a muttered "Lumen", Klaus summoned an orb that hovered above them giving off a gentle glow reminiscent of candlelight. He drew his black gloves off his hands and removed his hat and cape, depositing them in a corner. "Too many people," he answered, before drawing her close and looking down at her. "Clara…"

In her eyes he read something that made him smile knowingly. She flushed guiltily and buried her face in his chest.

Yes, she wanted him. And she had no clue what to do about it.

Klaus had thought about this moment many times before. The way he'd envisioned it, it would have happened in his office, or perhaps in the deserted courtyard after school – any place marginally private. The Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy Halloween party had not been a part of his plan.

Neither had a broom closet. At least it wasn't dusty. And closets…well, he didn't mind them in theory. Good things could happen in closets, though that hadn't been in the plan till much later.

For now, he could improvise. He was an Elite Magic Knight, after all. Seducing his own girlfriend…

He could do this. He'd never disappointed her before and he wasn't about to start now.

"Clara," he murmured against her hair. "Tell me the truth. Did you like what I did before?"

He felt her cheeks grow hot where she was pressing them against his shirt. "I don't know what you're t-talking about."

He smirked. She was too adorable. "Don't play dumb with me, bunnyhead. Do you want me to do it again?"

Clara stiffened, hesitating. "I…Klaus…"

"Lovers need to be honest with each other, remember?"

"But it's too embarrassing…"

He smiled against her hair. "It's just me." He squeezed her hand, and felt a moment of tenderness when she hesitantly squeezed back. "It's okay either way. I just want to know if it's something you want to try again."

Clara shivered.

"No?" he prompted.

She shook her head.

His heart sank, but he hugged her close. "Alright. That's fine."

"N-No," she stuttered. "I m-meant…yes. Again." Her voice lowered. "Klaus…" She stared up at him dazedly, and her fingers lifted to stroke his face.

His heart felt strange – too swollen for its own confines – as he accepted her touch, letting her trace his cheek shyly. Taking a deep breath, Klaus began stroking her back with one hand. He buried his other hand in her hair, which flowed down her back in gentle waves. He'd discovered a while ago that she'd had a sensitive scalp, and now she sighed in bliss as he rubbed her head, every so often gently tugging her hair at its roots.

It was supposed to relax her. It did the opposite to him. Gods, but her _hair_. It was rare to see it down like this, a supple river flowing over his hands. How many times had he thought about it, in his grasp, or falling around them as they –

 _No._

Klaus forced the tension out of his body.

"Give me a treat, or I'll cast a spell on you," he whispered. Not giving her a chance to respond, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her until she gasped for breath, before he moved down to her neck again and nuzzled the soft juncture where neck met shoulder. There he bestowed an open-mouthed kiss, and then used his teeth to grasp her skin firmly.

A gasp escaped her as she stiffened and shivered. He continued to tease with his teeth, alternating gentle bites with kisses and the occasional little lick. At some point he felt her hand searching for his. The pressure of her grip told him what he needed to know.

Then he saw her face, and suddenly the world was roaring in his ears again. His focus narrowed on her – her expression, half-shadowed in the weak light, yet more all the more vivid and astonishing. Gods, he was _never_ going to forget that look on her face, the feeling of her soft body snug against him, and the surging, mindless desire that had him gasping her name. He captured her mouth again, hard, bringing her arms above her head.

Just like that, she was at his mercy. She looked so _good_. He wanted – no, _needed –_

Through his haze of lust, Klaus dimly realized that for all his planning, he'd completely overestimated the extent of his self-discipline when he was finally faced with a willing Clara in his arms.

"Dammit!" he hissed, and he wrenched himself away from her. She gave a soft, startled cry as he moved over to the other side of the closet, breathing heavily.

His heart stung with the knowledge that perhaps for the first time in his life, his self-control was failing him _._

* * *

In the silence that fell between them, he could hear their breaths, the space between each one growing longer as their heartbeats slowed. When he finally looked at her again, he felt a sting of guilt. In the white dress that he'd chosen for her, Clara looked as pure as snow. She had wrapped her arms around herself, as if cold. "S-sorry," she stammered.

Irritation rose quickly, and though most of it was self-directed, it still poisoned his tone. "What do _you_ have to be sorry for?" he snapped.

"I…" She blinked. "D-Did I do something wrong? Or maybe…" Her expression suddenly crumbled.

"Clara?"

"I-It's b-because I'm not s-sexy enough, isn't it?"

Klaus went still for several moments. And then, he started to laugh. Hard.

"W-what…Klaus? Hey! That's not nice!" Clara exclaimed indignantly. "What's so funny?"

"You're _ridiculous_ ," he managed as his laughter continued. His little bunnyhead always managed to cheer him up somehow, even when she didn't mean to. She still looked adorably angry as he pulled her back towards him. Klaus knew how to wipe that expression off her face just as quickly as he'd put it there. He lowered his lips to her ear. "You were lovely. And your face…that might have been my favorite of all your expressions so far."

Her entire body stiffened in shock and her cheeks went dark with embarrassment. "W-wha – "

He chuckled quietly, letting her stew in speechless mortification for a while.

When he'd sufficiently enjoyed her expression, Klaus spoke again, his voice serious. "I promised myself that whenever this happened, that I was going to make it perfect for you." His voice went low and dark. "But right now…I can't promise that. Because I can't get you out of my head. And I want to…do things." Clara flushed darker. "I didn't know it was going to be so…difficult."

At that, she blinked. "Wait…Klaus…" Klaus suddenly felt a wave of foreboding as she looked back up at him with unabashed curiosity. She seemed to brace herself before asking in a small voice, "Klaus…have you ever done this before with another girl?"

His expression went stony. "What kind of rude question is that?"

As soon as he said it, he knew it'd been the wrong response. They'd been together for too long for her not to see right through his defensive evasion. "Wait – that means – "Clara's gaze went round with shock. " _Klaus –_ you've never – "

" _Clara._ "

"Eek!" She jumped at his tone, instantly recognizing his thunderous expression. But when Clara became fixated on something, she didn't let it go. "But Klaus, that means – "

" _Enough._ " He did the first thing that occurred to him, which was to shut that troublesome little mouth of hers up with a kiss. She squeaked in surprise, and then as he prolonged the kiss, relaxed slowly into his arms.

When they parted she was smiling. "What do you look so happy about?" he grumbled, willing the heat to subside in his cheeks.

"W-well…" She blushed. "You're always talking about my firsts, but I'm so happy that I'll get to be your first, too." And then she threw her arms around him and hugged tightly.

"Clara…" If he hadn't already been so hopelessly and irreversibly in love with her, this would have done him in. How had she turned him into this disgustingly lovesick fool? "For that, I'm never going to let you go," he declared, clamping his arms around her.

She squeaked and wriggled ineffectively. "Klaus!"

"I'm not done with you," he retorted.

She grumbled. "If you don't let go I'll – "

"You'll what?" He drew her face up towards him. "What will you do, bunnyhead?" His eyes were alight with mischief, daring her to follow through on her unnamed threat.

She stared up at him, hesitation clear on her face. He was about to call her bluff when she suddenly rose on her toes, leaned into him, and bit him on the neck.

 _Clara…_

At the feeling of her teeth on his skin, Klaus hissed, his body instantly tense. "Clara… _don't._ I told you, I can't make any promises about what I'll do."

She grew quiet. But then she looked up at him and smiled. For some reason when he saw her smile, he was suddenly reminded of the dawn – of lazy morning sunshine painting the land in hues of gold, gradually warming everything it touched.

"I trust you."


	17. Tea and Cookies - Azusa

"You haven't been sleeping."

It is not a question. Clara ducks her head and looks away, and that is all the confirmation he needs. Nightmares.

Azusa has no doubt that he is the cause.

If things were normal, he could reach out and hold her until she sank into him, boneless, for the support that she needed. For a moment he imagines that, how he'd wrap one arm around her waist, while letting his other hand cradle her head. He's held her before; he knows how slight and desperate her arms feel when clamped around his body, knows the delicate skin of her throat, the fluttering beat of her pulse against his fingertips, like hummingbird wings.

If he ever had a right to touch her at all, he's lost it.

So he doesn't. Instead he pushes something towards her. "Here."

"What…?" Clara blinks. "Herbal tea and cookies?"

Azusa masks his nervousness with a snort. "What else would they be? You forced these on me often enough before."

She stares at him, and in that moment he's suspended, in agony. Something – an echo of hurt – flits through her expression, but suddenly it changes and she's smiling.

"I should refuse," she declares, and he doesn't miss the slight tightness in her voice. But he's all too familiar with the look of a smile forced, and this is not it.

"But you won't," he replies. This time, it is a question.

She answers it with a sip of tea.


	18. Barefoot - Klaus

The bed was too tall.

Clara stood facing the imposing four poster, hands nervously fisted in the silken fabric of the comforter. How was it possible that a bed could rise to be almost as tall as her neck? She'd never seen one that required its own matching stepstool to climb into. It was a princess' bed – all plush pillows and a lovely canopy, draped in gauzy white layers.

It would probably hurt a lot if she fell out.

Clara smoothed out the silk under her fingers, then leaned over and pressed her cheek against it. She'd never slept in silk sheets before, and she was surprised at how cold they felt. She shivered, thinking of the red checkered flannel that her parents would bring out after Halloween each year.

A knock at the door startled her. "Clara?" It was Klaus' voice, muffled through the thick wood.

"Y-Yes?" she called, quickly straightening.

The door opened, and he stepped inside. He looked casual but no less elegant in shirtsleeves and dark slacks, but what surprised her most were his feet. They were bare.

For some reason the sight made her turn away bashfully, her cheeks beginning to warm. From behind her, his steps were no more than a whisper against the thick carpet. "Are you settled?" he asked. "How's the room?"

"It's beautiful," she answered. So beautiful she hadn't dared touch anything except the sheets.

Klaus eyed her luggage, still standing where the servants had left it. "You still haven't unpacked yet?" He gestured to a door in the corner, his tone turning caustic with impatience. "There's a closet in there for your things. What have you been wasting your time doing?"

"Just looking," she answered truthfully.

There was a stony silence, and then she heard him sigh. "Well, you're out of time now," he muttered. "We've got work to do."

"Huh? W-work?"

He grinned suddenly, devilishly. "Special Training."

"W-w-whaaaat?" she squawked. "But Klaus, we're on break!"

"We're at my house," he reminded her, patting her head. "Where do you think Special Training originated?"

"Awww…"

She followed him through the halls, and through several intricately arched doorways. The soles of her feet were chilly against the floors, but Clara smiled at the thought of how they must look, padding barefoot through a house that looked more like a museum. Soon Klaus was leading her down a flight of stairs into a large, darkened open space. Her fingers curled on the handrail as her palm skimmed the smooth polished wood. For a fleet moment, she pictured a little Elias, sliding down the bannister, shrieking with joy as Klaus caught him at the bottom.

Then she reached the landing and stopped short.

It was a ballroom.

It was massive. The smooth wooden floors had been inlaid with gold, in intricate patterns that seemed to stretch into infinity – until Clara realized that two of the walls had been covered in mirrors. The far end of the room opened up into the gardens, and through the large glass doors she could make out several fountains. She looked up at the ceiling, which had been painted with an elaborate fresco - a herd of white horses rearing up towards the heavens, where the sun broke from a cover of clouds. A great chandelier hung from the center of the room, a thousand crystals glittering from its arms.

A few steps away, Klaus was waiting for her, gesturing impatiently. "You're gawking," he teased.

"B-but..." She bit back her response. But how could she _not_? Her feet felt numb as she stumbled towards him, eyes still darting around the room. There was…so much. She could stand here for hours and stare, taking in the tiny details, the engravings on the sconces, the facets on each shimmering gem…

Instead she felt his hand lift her chin so that she was looking at him. There was gentle amusement in his violet eyes. "Relax," he commanded, taking her hand casually. The touch distracted her, and she flushed as he led her to the center of the room, and then turned to face her.

"K-Klaus?" There were scant inches between them, the space of a mere breath. "W-what are we doing here?"

"We're teaching you to dance," he answered, voice falling into his usual instructor's cadence. "Put your left hand on my shoulder."

So this was Special Training? Clara's mouth quirked in a half-smile. _Klaus, you tease…_ She moved to comply. Even with the grand ballroom looming tall around them, mirrors replicating their images ad infinitum, it was comfortingly familiar to have Klaus there, instructing her as always. His hands moved to correct her, voice steady and stern as he explained how they would move. She suddenly remembered her third day at the academy, conjuring tornados in the courtyard, and the way he'd touched her to perfect her casting form, his broad chest hot against her back. Her body suddenly hummed with awareness at his closeness as he began to guide her in the first steps. The way he was holding her waist…

Her cheeks flared with heat. Of course, they didn't escape his notice. "What are you blushing about now?"

"N-nothing."

He huffed, and the swirl of air from his breath skimmed her hair. "You're ridiculously short, you know. Have you grown at all since you started school?"

"Ahh…" He was right. The top of her head barely brushed his chin. "Will we look awkward together?"

A low chuckle vibrated through his chest. "It doesn't matter."

She peered off to the side, looking at them in the mirror. The sight of them in such an intimate embrace, multiplied in the endless reflection of mirrors, brought upon a flash of mortification. She stumbled, and his arms tightened to catch her.

"It was only a matter of time before you messed up," Klaus commented as she righted herself.

"H-Hey! That's not nice! I-I've never done this before!"

"Why do you think we're here practicing? Did you know there's a ball at the end of the week?" He grinned down at her wickedly.

"W-what?" A sudden image of the ballroom came to mind, fully lit and filled with people, all twirling about in suits and dresses. "R-really?"

"Yes. And you'll be dancing with me then. So don't embarrass me." He started to move again.

 _Don't embarrass me._ She groaned inwardly, and then summoned her focus, concentrating on the steps. But it wasn't long before she second guessed herself and tripped over her own feet, accidentally stepping on his. In a rush of embarrassment, she broke away. "S-sorry."

"Clara." He narrowed his eyes, and she cringed, bracing herself for a lecture. Instead she felt herself encircled by his arms, as he repositioned her hand on his shoulder. "Dancing is about muscle memory," he said. "We have to keep practicing before you'll be good at it. That's why we're starting early. And why we're not wearing shoes."

"Ohh…" It made sense. She would feel terrible trampling on his feet in shoes. Clara peered down, and caught sight of Klaus' feet – slender and long and elegant, yet no less masculine. She glanced at her own toes, small, pudgy, and a little crooked.

Even his feet were beautiful. She felt as plain as a field mouse.

"Don't look there." Again, Clara felt the touch of his hand on her chin, firmly redirecting her gaze back into his eyes. "Looking down is the fastest way to mess up when dancing. Look at me, or look behind me, but don't ever look down."

"Okay." She took a breath, and they started to move again. Within ten seconds she'd tripped. "Ugh! This is hopeless."

"I'll say. Even Elias was better than this," Klaus muttered, with a long-suffering sigh.

"U-um, maybe I won't have to dance?" It was a tempting thought. Elias had told her about the Goldstein family's balls before. Klaus and his family members would probably all be talking to various Ministry officials, anyway; no one was there for her. She could wander around unseen, or maybe camp out near the food.

Klaus leveled at her a stern look, effectively ending that fantasy. "Clara. It's been barely fifteen minutes. Are you going to give up that quickly?" And then his voice dropped. "Don't you want to dance with me?"

His words caressed her, like a soft finger running up her spine. She shivered. And then she had a horrifying thought. What if he had to dance with other women because she couldn't do it? She went cold. "Y-Yes! I want to!"

"Then we'll keep practicing, no matter how awful you are. Besides," he paused, before smiling at her gently. "You'll have to dance with me at our wedding anyway. So why put off the practice?"

Her face flamed, and she buried it in his chest, unable to face him through a shroud of bashfulness. She felt his laughter reverberating against her cheek, before he took her back in hand. Clara took another deep breath, ready to try again, but Klaus paused.

"Close your eyes."

She blinked. "What?!"

"You heard me, Bunnyhead."

"But Klaus, we're dancing. How will I – "

"Just do it." He reached over to tap her nose. "Trust me."

She did. She wobbled a bit at the loss of orientation, but then she felt his arms securely around her. He squeezed one hand, and then she felt the fingers of his other hand curl a little more around her waist, anchoring her to him securely. "Ready?" he murmured.

She nodded. And then they were dancing.

Without the sights of the room, her world seemed to collapse into just a few sensations; the flex of his shoulder under her palm, the warm grip of his hand, the hardness of the ballroom floor beneath their bare feet. But it was just like always – Klaus leading, her following, except that now she could feel his instructions through the press of his arms and the tilt of his body. A smile rose unbidden to her lips, as she felt herself moving with him.

When he suddenly lifted his arm, the intent in his grip guided her underneath. She couldn't help but giggle as he led her into a twirl, and then drew back her against him. For a moment, she could feel his heat along the entire length of her body, before he spun her out again, catching her and repositioning them.

She felt suddenly short of breath.

They had stopped. To her surprise, Klaus was murmuring something – an incantation? – and she felt the warm and familiar surge of his magic surrounding them. Seemingly satisfied, he turned his attention back to her. "Are you all right? Do you want to stop?"

"N-no!" she gasped. _Never!_ she thought. Her joy bubbled up, like a secret spring. "Let's keep going! This is the best Special Training ever!"

She heard his laughter, soft and low. "Good. Open your eyes."

When she did, the ballroom had been transformed. It was pitch-black, but around them, tiny orbs of magic dotted the ceiling, giving off sparks of light. Suddenly, Clara heard music – the delicate notes of a piano, playing something slow and languid.

When she looked back up at Klaus, there was something rare and soft in his expression as he gazed down at her. She thought she saw his lips shape words, but she didn't have time to ask before he was urging her gently forward.

She responded to the signals of his intent, and soon she was laughing and twirling again, as if through a sea of stars.

* * *

Unbeknownst to them, they were being watched. Three figures crouched in the shadows on the stairway, peering through the banister rails onto the open dance floor.

"I told you," Elias whispered.

"Utterly besotted." Matthias smirked. "This is too good…I never thought it would happen to Klaus."

The third figure said nothing, but simply watched the dancing couple, his gaze riveted on the expression of his second son. In time, he found himself smiling, too.

"Let's go," he said quietly, gesturing to the others. "We'll give your brother some privacy."

* * *

AN: This is probably going to be worked into a longer piece. But it sort of read nicely on its own, so I thought I'd post it here since it's been a couple of weeks since my last fic post.

The name I gave the eldest Goldstein brother is Matthias - but of course, this is not grounded in canon. Maybe one day, we'll know for sure.


	19. The Maiden and the Merman - Klaus (AU)

This piece is an AU, featuring a merman Klaus. It serves as a direct sequel to Water Bearer, a lovely gift fic written for me CorsetJinx based on a piece of art depicting Klaus as a merman drawn by RobanCrow. Both CorsetJinx and RobanCrow, as well as the story Water Bearer, can be found on AO3. Please check out Water Bearer if you're curious about Klaus and Clara's first meeting.

* * *

He wasn't here.

Clara exhaled slowly, her fingers idly tracing patterns in the sand as she scanned the water. She squinted, trying to make out shapes in the dark blue depths where she knew it was deeper than she could stand, but there was no sign of him at all.

She was a fool. She had no reason to expect that Klaus would be here, but a small stirring hope had led her to the seashore again, feet moving as if by their own will. Now, she sat alone on the deserted beach, her legs extended so that the gentle waves kissed her heels every few moments.

She fought the disappointment that rose like a tide, and instead turned to gaze down the shoreline, focusing on the beauty of the view and the mild weather. It was a beautiful late afternoon, and the ocean breeze was gentle, settling upon her skin. It was a good day to sit and be alone, to enjoy a secret sweet, and to forget about the damning score on the exam she'd received that morning, accompanied by Professor Schuyler's hawkish, judgmental sneer.

Clara turned to the little basket she'd brought with her, pulling out a thermos and pouring herself some tea. Closing her eyes, she went still, inhaling. The woodsy scent mingled with the briny breeze over the water in a strange but yet not discordant way, and she felt her entire body relax.

"Back again?"

The voice startled her and she cried out, fingers fumbling. She just managed to save the contents of her cup from being lost to the sand, and then looked up. There he was, rising majestically out of the sea several feet away, his arms crossed, smirking at her. Her eyes traced the lines of his bare chest and then followed them down to where his torso emerged from the water, straining for a glimpse of his fins, before she caught herself and looked away, coloring with embarrassment even as her heart filled with joy. "K-Klaus."

He scanned the shoreline. "Alone today?" His tone grew irritable. "What did I tell you last time about being more careful?"

"S-sorry," she murmured, wondering suddenly why she'd been so looking forward to seeing him again. How could she have forgotten that he was kind of a jerk? Her gaze fell upon the contents of her basket. "I wanted to bring you something. In return for the seashells."

His expression didn't change, but in his expectant silence she could sense interest. She stood, brushing sand from her skirt, and picked up the little container of cookies that had been in her basket. Cautiously, she waded barefoot into the surf in his direction, stopping when the water level reached mid-thigh. They were still an arm's length apart, but any further and she'd have to hike her skirt up in front of him above her waist.

He glanced at the folds of her skirt, gathered in her hand. "Not swimming today?"

Did he sound disappointed? "No…I can't stay for too long." She pried open the container and held a cookie out towards him. "Here. I made these."

He made no move to take it, eyebrow rising sardonically. "Given the level of competence and judgment you've displayed thus far, you won't blame me for feeling hesitant about whether to eat that."

"W-what - " She flinched as if she'd been physically struck, before her indignation took over. "You're so mean! I'll have you know that my cookies are really good!" As if to prove her point, she stuck the cookie in her own mouth and took a bite, chewing furiously.

He stared at her, his expression hovering somewhere between laughter and dismay. He said nothing, though, and Clara was on the verge of turning around and leaving him behind when he suddenly reached forward. Frozen in place, she could do nothing as he gently plucked the half-eaten cookie from her hand, and then bit into it. Clara blushed – she'd just bitten that same one! – but couldn't suppress a little thrill of triumph at his expression of surprise and the reluctant enjoyment that followed.

"You're right," he admitted when he finished. "What I said was uncalled for." Before she could process the apology, he had turned away, looking at her abandoned picnic basket with interest. "What were you drinking? You looked like you were enjoying it."

"Oh!" She turned and waded back towards the shore, careful not to lose her balance as the sand under her feet shifted in the waves. Back at her basket, she crouched down and carefully poured some more tea into her cup before returning to where Klaus waited. Again, she reached out to him, and he took the cup from her, their fingers touching briefly. She'd expected him to feel as cool as the ocean water, but his fingers were surprisingly warm.

Klaus stared into the cup with interest, and then took his time inhaling the aroma before he took a sip. He closed his eyes, as if studying the flavor on his tongue. It was a long moment before he finally swallowed. "It tastes like…the forest. Or what I imagine of it."

Clara nodded, smiling. "It's tea. It's made from steeping leaves in hot water. Some people put cream and sugar into it, but sometimes it's nice on its own, too."

"It's relaxing," he agreed. Then he was studying her intently. "You looked upset before."

She blinked, realizing that he must have been watching her somehow while she sat on the shore. "Ahh…it's nothing. Just school."

"Is someone bothering you?"

"No…it's just…" she faltered. "It's my own fault. I'm barely keeping up with classes. And at this rate…" Her lip trembled. "I might fail."

Klaus frowned. "Are you really that terrible? Is making cookies the only thing you're good at?"

"H-hey!" Clara groaned. _How insensitive!_ But she couldn't really deny it. She didn't even know how she'd passed her Trial, to be honest. She wondered if she'd imagined the Scale of Judgment's hesitation before it'd slowly, reluctantly, tilted to the right. "I'm just really behind everyone else. They all grew up with magic, but I had to teach myself. And my magic always fails on anything except animals."

"Sounds like you're at the wrong school, then."

"Oh, no – it's a dream come true for me to be at the Academy! I applied for years, but never made it in till now. It's just hard when they're talking about things I've never heard of…and then I get called on to demonstrate, and I can't." She smiled sadly. "I do study, I promise…but it doesn't help when I don't understand the textbooks, either."

Klaus was silent for a long moment, so long that she assumed he'd lost interest. She peered around him, hoping for a glimpse of his tail, the memory of the shark-like appendage fascinating her to no end. She should have brought a swimsuit, she thought with a pang of regret. And maybe swim goggles. Would he allow her to come that close?

"Eyes up here, Bunnyhead," he chided. "Did I give you permission to stare?"

Caught, Clara flushed. "S-sorry," she murmured. "I've just never met anyone like you before."

"That goes for both of us," he muttered. "I've never met a human that could understand us, much less an imbecile who's so atrocious at taking care of herself." Before she could protest that indignity, his brow had quirked into an expression of consideration. "And yet…" He trailed off. Instead, he leveled at her an assessing look. "I'll make you a deal."

"Hmm? What?" A chill of foreboding went through her, and she suddenly remembered a story that she'd been told as a child, about an evil sea witch who granted wishes. All of the witch's victims had been betrayed through the very things they'd wished for. "W-what kind of deal?"

"I'll help you with your magic. In return, you come back with more of your sweets." He paused. "And the tea."

"Wha – " Clara frowned. "But…how? I can only make it out here once a month. We're not allowed to leave the school grounds more than that."

Klaus shrugged. "It's not a problem. You can just take my familiar with you." Suddenly, a great seabird swooped down and landed at Clara's feet. Startled, she jumped. It was _huge._ "I can keep an eye on you through my albatross' eyes. And instruct you."

She looked down at the bird, which stared at her and ruffled a wing unconcernedly. Somehow it reminded her of Klaus, regal and self-assured. "I…okay," she murmured. In truth, it would be nice to have someone else around to talk to. Aside from Amelia, who wasn't in her class, she didn't have many friends at school. "But…" Her fear from before rose again, and she looked up into his eyes, peering worriedly into them. What was the catch? "Klaus…is that it? You just want my cookies and tea once a month? There's nothing else?"

Suddenly she felt the warm weight of his hand on her head. She closed her eyes briefly, mysteriously reassured by the feeling. When she opened them again there was a fleeting fondness that passed over his expression, before it turned smug and calculating, as he usually looked.

"I told you last time," he said, his voice oddly low, like a caress. "You trust people far too easily for your own good. But yes, that's all I want. I'll expect to see you here each month."

"O-okay." Suddenly, even though the sky had darkened into the beginnings of sunset, everything seemed brighter. She thought about the cookies, and wondered what else she could make for him to try. Maybe he would like macarons too. "Tea and sweets."

"Tea and sweets," he repeated. "For now."


	20. Mirror - Elias

An accidental glance into the Persona Mirror reveals truths that Klaus is not yet ready to face. Elias x MC, from Klaus' POV.

* * *

"I don't know who I envy more – "

His own voice, reflected back at him, felt jarringly loud in the quiet of the Prefect's office. Klaus muttered a curse and flipped the Persona Mirror over, silencing it.

He should have known the moment he'd seen the familiar velvet coverings, even if they'd been in as incongruous a place as the knapsack of Clara Hart, his younger brother's Buddy. His father's mirror had been locked away in the Headmaster's office behind an assortment of magical traps so dangerous that even Klaus wouldn't have bothered, if he'd had any desire to look into the Mirror in the first place. Which he hadn't.

But here it was, in the possession of one of the most incompetent young wizardesses ever to set foot at Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy. One who had then carelessly left her backpack in his office.

Klaus heard footsteps sounding from down the hall, recognizing them immediately. He straightened, slipping the mirror back into its cloth pouch. When Elias knocked, and then opened the office door at his behest, Klaus was standing accusatorily, the covered parcel visible in his hand.

Elias blanched in recognition.

"What is your Buddy doing with Father's mirror?" Klaus asked, slowly and evenly.

Elias' gaze lowered guiltily. "Please don't get mad at Clara," he began. "It's my fault."

"Care to explain?"

Elias winced. "I told her that if she were to get the mirror, I would accept her as my Buddy." One look at Klaus' face, and Elias' voice took on a newly frantic quality. "I never thought she'd be able to do it! Or that she would even try…but she did it. Somehow."

Klaus frowned. If it had been stolen, Headmaster Randolph would have told him, and probably recruited him in the effort to identify the thief. That this had not happened meant that Clara's possession of the mirror must have come with Randolph's consent.

Interesting.

Klaus set that aside for later consideration, choosing instead to harp upon another fact. "You attempted to deny your Buddy? You know that's not possible."

Elias flushed, hands clenching nervously. "I…"

"Spit it out."

"I-I thought that if I just didn't help her, she wouldn't pass her Trial."

Elias' tone was sullen and ashamed. Klaus was suddenly reminded of a moment in their childhood, when his little brother had admitted to stealing sweets from a gift box meant for their servants - something that he'd never done again once Klaus was through with him. He thought now of Clara Hart, the little Bunnyhead, an unfortunate excuse for a wizardess – yet stubbornly devoted and loyal to Elias.

And Elias had tried to _purposefully_ make her fail her Trial. Had his brother truly been driven to such lengths of desperation?

Had Klaus been the one to push him there?

"I'm disappointed in you, Elias," Klaus said quietly. "Disappointed beyond belief. A Buddy is a gift." _A treasure,_ he thought. An image of Clara came to mind, glaring up at him moments after they'd met, face bright red with both fright and fury, as she defended Elias to him.

Klaus banished that image away.

Elias nodded unflinchingly. "I – I know. It's not like that anymore. I would never, ever hurt her like that again."

There was a long, tense moment, before Klaus nodded. "See that you don't," he said shortly. "Why are you here?"

"Ah – " Elias seemed a little startled that the conversation was over, clearly having expected greater censure. "I was just here to get Clara's bag for her."

Klaus walked over to it, slipping the Persona Mirror carefully into the knapsack before handing it to his brother. "Take care of that mirror. Clara's not the most responsible of people, and Father certainly wouldn't want to know that something happened to it."

"I will," Elias nodded. "We might return it to the Headmaster soon. I think it's served its purpose for us."

Klaus wondered briefly, but didn't pry. "Good."

"I'll see you later," Elias said, heading out the door. Halfway through, he hesitated. "And Klaus – "

"What is it?"

"Thank you." His brother nodded his head and disappeared. The door closed behind him with a whoosh of air, sending a brief, cool breeze through the room.

Left alone, Klaus moved back to his desk. He reached for his tea cup, fingers curling around the porcelain. Cold. He moved over to his tea kettle, beginning the brewing process anew.

A stray glance outside yielded a view of the sunset, as it cast ever lengthening shadows in the courtyard. In the grassy clearing just beyond, he could see two seated people.

Elias. And next to him, his Clara.

They were sitting close to each other – not too close, but within arm's length. He couldn't hear what they were saying from his office, but he stood there, guiltily mesmerized, as he watched Clara slowly reach for Elias' hand. In a moment of hesitation she nearly pulled back. But then she straightened, seemingly full of resolve, and reached again.

Klaus turned before she closed the distance. The tea kettle was whistling. In the din, he thought he could hear the Persona Mirror, mocking him in his own voice, completing the sentence that it had almost said before.

 _I don't know who I envy more – Elias, for having Clara's heart, or Clara, for having his._


	21. Remember - Joel

Summary: "You'll remember me again… No, I'll make you remember. I promise…" But she doesn't. Sequel to Joel's unhappy ending. Not quite a fix-it.

ONE YEAR LATER

She's here.

She runs through the academy gates, bouncy strides fueled by a determination not to let her second chance go to waste. "I won't get lost this time!" Clara laughs reassuringly at the Acceptance Letter, still fluttering about behind her. "Don't worry about me. I remember everything. Oh, I can't wait to see Amelia again! And the others…"

As she rushes by him on the path, she trips, pitching forward with a squeal.

He's there to catch her. As Joel helps her straighten, it feels strange that he must again resist the urge to hold her, kiss her. How often had they touched, one year ago, eleven years ago? He remembers the way she used to reach for him so naturally, full of instinctive trust, and he misses her deeply even as she stands before him now.

With effort he steps back, reestablishing a distance acceptable between strangers. She looks up into his eyes, and blinks with wonder, just as she had a year ago. "How unusual – your eyes – "

Joel stares back, waiting for a hint of recognition. Before he can find any, she gasps. "I have to go! I can't be late for curfew on my first day! I'm so sorry. What's your name?"

"It's Joel," he manages, swallowing his disappointment.

"Joel!" she beams at him. "Thank you Joel! I'm Clara, and I'm a new student here. But I have to be at the dorm now! Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"

And she rushes off. He doesn't see her again that day.

Over the next few days, he is patient. Once again, he waits for Clara in the morning, and once again they walk together to class. Her sunny presence fills his days with joy, but he begins to worry, because she should have begun to remember by now, should have begun to question the things he says, the hints he lets drop like little shining sweets along a forest path, but that she doesn't seem to find.

On the seventh day, she approaches him, looking hesitant.

"Joel?" she asks. "I…this is going to sound very strange. But everyone says I met you last year during my first provisional period. And yet I can't remember you at all."

"We did meet, yes." He watches her carefully. The floodgates of her memories should have opened with so strong a confirmation. But her gaze is blank.

"But I'm sure I would have remembered your eyes, at least. I've never seen eyes like yours before." Her brow furrows for a fleet moment before her face settles into a look of conviction.

Joel hesitates. "Never…?"

"No." Clara sighs, seemingly a little frustrated, but then her expression brightens again, like a shaft of sunlight breaking through the clouds. "In any case…Luca says you're a genius spellsinger! Would you sing something for me?"

"Rude as always," he mutters, though his words are tinged with grudging affection. As she apologizes, he is struck with the memory of this same exchange from a year ago, and he feels more troubled than ever. He stands before her, meeting her expectant gaze, and he thinks very hard. Suddenly he knows exactly what to sing.

It'll work, he promises himself, as he takes his first breath, letting the magic coalesce in the music. It must. Joel begins to sing, this time the words to a song he knows she's never heard before.

At the end of his song, his tenor trembles uncharacteristically on the final notes, because he can barely breathe out of anxiety, his heart hammering against his ribs in a frenetic rhythm. He watches her, waiting for a change in her expression, _anything_ to show that the song of remembrance had worked on her.

Instead she beams at him and claps. "That was beautiful, Joel! Thank you so much!"

Nothing.

After chatting with him about her classes, and confiding in him that her fear of Professor Schuyler had not lessened over time, she runs off.

He is stunned, and not a little afraid.

Joel spends the next few days in the library, reading everything he can about the song of remembrance. He prays that perhaps he had sung the lyrics incorrectly. He prays that perhaps he had botched the melody.

The books are unmoved by his prayers; he had sung the music and cast the spell flawlessly as always.

Heart turning leaden, he switches topics. The song of forgetfulness. Suddenly he recalls their home in Reitz; he remembers yellowed sheet music belonging to his father, and mysterious words from a forgotten and forbidden book that he'd memorized out of fascination. The sheer heights of his love, no less true for his youth. The way he had steeled himself and fought to keep the shaking out of his voice as he sang to a sobbing Clara by a river glowing with stars. His relief, unfolding each day like the petals of a water lily, when she slowly began to remember him ten years later.

Joel searches and searches. Finally, in an old and long-abandoned book, whose pages crack even as he flips them, he finds the hint of an answer to his question.

What he reads leaves him cold.

* * *

There is one last resort.

Eress meets him out in the Fairies' Garden. In her true form she is formidable, and beautiful to behold, but her expression still reflects her impatient and tempestuous nature, reminding him of the tiny bug-like imp she'd once been.

Joel has never been afraid of Eress, but when he confesses his deed, the fury in her face coupled with the cackling of barely controlled magic around him makes him feel true fear for the first time. "You did _what_? What gave you the right to do that to her?"

The air around them has gone cold. He sinks to the ground. "I couldn't bear to see her cry. I thought it would better if she forgot…"

"You're a moron! A blockhead! I always knew you didn't deserve her!" Eress hesitates, a look of anguish on her features. "Don't tell me…she's forgotten me too?"

Joel doesn't answer.

"And let me guess. You want me to fix your mistake?"

"It's the only way," he begs. "The song of forgetfulness…if it's cast twice, on the same subject, the memory loss becomes permanent. I…didn't know."

"What were you doing using that forbidden spell in the first place?!" the fairy shrieks, before letting out a long and angry sound. "Fine! But I'm not doing this for you! It's only because I want my best friend back! I can't believe you stole her from me!"

* * *

On the night before her second Trial is supposed to take place, Joel brings Clara out to the lake, where they meet Eress. Clara is delighted to meet a fairy for the first time; Eress tries to play along but her impatience wins out, and in a fit of anxiety, the little blue fairy casts her spell while Clara sits trustingly on the bank.

And then she remembers. And then she cries.

Joel can barely stand to watch as the girl he has loved from childhood kneels in the long soft grass, her hands shaking like brittle leaves stirred by the wind. Eress is crying too, hugging Clara's neck with the little chubby arms of her imp form.

"I'm sorry," Clara whispers. "I'm sorry for forgetting you. My best friend…"

Eress sobs in little squeaks. "It's not your fault! I'll make sure you _never_ forget me from now on!"

Clara turns to Joel. She looks hollow and betrayed, and he feels gutted, once more the cause of her tears. "Joel…why did you do it?"

"I didn't want you to hurt," he answers, in a broken voice. "It was supposed to be for the best."

Clara chokes on a sudden sob. "I know how you must have felt, but Joel…" Her voice turns dark and ragged. "What you did…my memories, our happiness…you took it all away _._ Again."

"I…" He doesn't have an adequate response. In the silence between them he cannot avoid the truth, splashing upon him jarringly like icy water.

He has stolen from her. He is not eight years old anymore. There is no excuse for theft.

He ruthlessly suppresses the stinging sensation of forthcoming tears, because he has promised himself never to cry in front of Clara again. Instead he bows his head. "I won't. Ever again. Clara…believe me. Please…"

She stares at him blankly. "But how will I know?" She closes her eyes, looking as dark and bleak as he's ever seen her. "I'll never know for sure, will I? What other things will you take from me without me knowing?"

"I'll make you a promise," he says, in desperation.

In that instant, he knows he has lost her forever.

He can see the pain flash across her face, and then the steel of resolve. "Joel…no."

"Clara…"

"No more promises with you. Ever." She stands up, Eress still clinging to her neck. "I can't," she whispers. And she turns and runs.

She will never forgive him for this.

"Clara!" he screams after her. "Clara!"

But he doesn't follow.

* * *

Author's Notes: The Unhappy Ending very much ruined Joel for me. In it, he crosses an ethical line that is unacceptable, by removing MC's memories of him again, before she boards the train back home.

What are memories? They are the building blocks of our identity. Our memories and experiences determine the way we develop, and shape the growth of our personalities. By arbitrarily removing MC's memories in the Unhappy Ending, Joel has essentially stolen a key part of Clara's identity, for a selfish reason ("I can't bear to see you cry"). He also reveals a disturbing lack of respect for her character and her right to face life - its triumphs and travails - and to grow into her own person.

This fic was written in outrage, because Joel needed to be punished for what he did. As sweet and delightful as the majority of Joel's route was, there is nothing in my mind that can excuse his actions in this ending - or the problematic things that they reveal about his character, and the way he views MC.


	22. Moonlight - Klaus

Summary: Klaus, Unhappy Ending, a purgatory of longing. This can be read as a prequel to Reunion.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock is striking.

At the sound, Klaus looks over at his own timepiece, brow furrowing at what it reveals. He closes his eyes, and then his shoulders sag, as if his mind has for the first time in hours become aware of the state of the rest of his body.

It is midnight already. The rest of his report will have to wait until tomorrow. No matter; it is not due to the Ministry for another week.

Klaus looks up at the sky through his window. Tonight should be a full moon, he remembers. Nothing reminds him more of Clara than the moon, but tonight it is hidden, obscured by a cloud. He sits back, gaze drifting into the distance, in the direction of Reitz.

What must she be doing now? Is she asleep? His mind supplies an image - Clara huddled under a blanket, silken hair spread all around her, mouth lax and twitching as she dreams. For a moment in his mind the blanket is the large black cape he once wore as Prefect, and the pillow that she lays her cheek upon is his chest, and he is flustered, heart throbbing in confusion as she dreams, fingers hot as she touches him in her sleep.

It has been almost three years, and the memories are almost faded, nothing more than snatches of emotion and sensation that his mind has desperately united in wistful fantasy.

It is all he has of her now. But not for long.

His gaze drifts to the calendar nearby, to the date that he has encircled in his mind. He has been counting down steadily for what seems like months, making arrangements quietly, securing what he needs to make the trip. The date draws closer and closer, and he wonders what it will be like when it is finally here, when he can finally be released from this purgatory of longing.

"Clara," he whispers into the darkness. Nearly three years since he's spoken her name, and the syllables sound almost odd on his tongue, no matter how many times he has said them, groaned them, screamed them in his mind. "I need you with me."

As if in answer, suddenly his window is flooded in moonlight. He looks up; the moon has cast away the veil of clouds and revealed itself, almost blindingly brilliant, illuminating his room and the empty streets outside.

He can't help but smile. Hadn't he read once of a legend that spoke of a bunny on the moon?

He'll take it as a good sign.

"Wait for me, Bunnyhead. Just a little longer."


	23. With No Space Between Us - Elias

AN: This snippet was written for a mini-fic fill request, but may be eventually pulled into a longer work.

"Clara," he gasped, forcing his hands still against the skin of her waist. She could feel the thread of tension running through him like a live wire, as he tried to pull away to create distance between them. Yet his hips refused to move, pressing stubbornly against hers. "Clara," he repeated, voice ragged and dark. "I'm sorry… I can't be a gentleman for you right now. Not like this."

She looked up at him, love reflected luminously in her eyes, rich and deep. I don't need you to be a gentleman, Elias," she whispered. "Just gentle."

He froze, but she pressed her advantage, trailing her fingers under the hem of his shirt. For a long moment she teased at the sliver of exposed skin at his side, before her fingertips dipped shyly down his waistband.

At that touch something came to life within him, and he reached down to capture her curious, wandering hand. There was a smile in his eyes as he leaned over to press the first of many, many kisses to her lips.

"Alright," he answered.


	24. Like Stars - Elias

"Did you ever think I would say no?"

They're lying together, bodies cushioned in lush grasses, watching the stars. From the way Elias is holding her, he can't see much of her expression, just the hint of a smile.

Clara's question sinks in and he stiffens. She squeezes his hand. In her grasp, he can feel the unyielding solidity of the ring that now adorns her finger. It's a new and unfamiliar sensation, the stone nudging against his skin.

Every time he feels it, he'll remember that night – the smell of jasmine blooming around them, and the shadows of the arbor that rose above their heads. They'd sneaked out of the party together, escaping the heat of the ballroom and running like children for the freedom of the garden. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost her shoes and he his jacket, but he couldn't seem to find it in himself to care.

She'd been wearing a blue gown that swirled around her legs like ink with every movement. There, alone with him in the shadows of the fruit trees, she'd begged him to spin her around, again and again. On a whim he'd lifted her high, and she'd shrieked, half in fear and half in glee. Finally he'd brought her back down to earth, and she'd fallen against his chest, breathing hard, dazed with delight.

In the darkness of the garden she'd looked ethereal, like some creature of starlight. Her touch upon his arm was as cool as the moon, and as he stared into her eyes, he swore that he saw the universe reflected in them. Every star, every tiny light, all shining. All for him.

And suddenly he'd needed to tell her, the words clamoring against his chest, a palpable force, a directive that could not be ignored.

I love you, he'd said, but what had come out instead was, "Marry me."

He'd frozen, his mind suddenly awash in vertigo as if he were falling, falling, falling, through stars and space, cast away with nothing to hold onto except her hand, which suddenly seemed to grow hot in his grasp. Before he'd known what he was doing, he'd already sank down onto one knee, focusing on the coldness of the earth beneath him to ground himself lest he drift away. His gaze fixed on her expression, searching every feature for some hint –

He had no ring, he'd panicked suddenly, he'd done it all wrong, he had no ring, how was he going to –

And then she'd begun to cry, but before he could say anything else she'd launched herself at him, and suddenly her arms encircled his waist, and all he could hear was, "Yes, yes, yes."

And in her arms, he'd felt like he was soaring.

Now he turns a little pink, thinking of that moment, and her question. He peeks down at her again. Clara is not cruel; she is asking out of genuine curiosity.

He pushes back his hesitation and answers. "For a long time," he confesses, "I thought about it every day."

"Elias?" She turns towards him, her gaze full of concern.

"But," he breathes, "you love me." He exhales with the effort of that statement, which implies a confidence he has not always felt. But now? He strokes her hand, fingertips running over the shape of the ring. "No. You wouldn't have."

Her eyes grow as soft as dawn, and she smiles. "You're right," she says. "Now, can you remember that for the rest of your life?"

He squeezes her hand, and feels the ring again, solid and certain and shining, like stars.

"I think I can," he answers, before he kisses her.


	25. Contracts - Yukiya

Summary: Clara's attempt to break Yukiya's contract does not go as expected. Set ten years in the future. Yukiya x MC.

* * *

She had told herself that she wasn't going to cry. Particularly not in front of the wolf, who had judged her and found her unworthy from the minute they'd met. Years of cohabitation seemed not to have changed a thing, despite Clara's best efforts. Now, she held onto her composure by mere threads, watching the magical beast stalk away, as regal and indifferent as he'd ever been.

When he was completely out of sight, she stood and turned, taking slow, deliberate steps before she suddenly felt the stinging high in her nose that signaled imminent tears. She quickened her pace, managing to duck into the house and into the bedroom before she lost control entirely.

Yukiya found her later, sobbing under a layer of blankets. She tried to recompose herself when she felt the weight of him sinking onto the bed, but one look into his eyes and she'd fallen apart again.

Within moments she felt herself lifted onto his lap. There, he curled one arm around her waist and the other around her head, tucking her into the crook of his neck.

"I-I'm s-sorry," she gasped, between sobs. "I c-couldn't…"

"Shhh…it's alright." Yukiya began to rock her against him, his fingers pressing against her scalp to rub gently. Clara's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, enjoying the sensation despite herself. Then, she shuddered in shame. She'd failed him so utterly, and now here he was, taking the time to comfort _her_.

She didn't deserve him at all.

They sat together until her sobs finally subsided from exhaustion. Then Yukiya pulled her down against him, until they were both lying on the bed, with Clara tucked into his arms as he pulled their blankets over them.

"Y-Yukiya," she began, voice shaking.

"What is it?"

"W-what…" She took a breath, and began again. "What does the wolf want from us?"

She could no longer bring herself to call him Wolfy, a nickname given to the creature during a time when she'd naively believed he could one day be a friend.

Yukiya was silent for a long moment. "I've never known," he said, finally.

"He won't agree to break the contract," she confessed. " _Ever_. All these years…and there's never been any hope of it."

Yukiya's arms tightened around her briefly.

"I'm sorry…" she gulped, the shame rising again. "I f-failed you."

"No." His voice was deep and firm. "Clara. You've never failed me. Not a single day since we first met."

"But…" She thought of all the hours they'd spent together in the library researching magical contracts, and the days spent perfecting her magic under his steady encouragement until the mistakes of her first year were nothing but memories. The advanced classes for magical beast tamers; the long discussions with Headmaster Randolph their senior year. The blue sash that she'd worn at their graduation signifying her specialty in Magical Creature Ecology, and Yukiya standing proudly beside her. She'd been so confident, so sure, that this was within reach, if she just worked hard enough.

Throughout it all, Yukiya's wolf had been there, watching wordlessly. Had he been laughing at them the whole time?

What sort of creature was this, that they had living in their home with them? Why had he appeared, and why was he still here? What was he trying to achieve?

And what had she been working for, all these years?

"I feel like such a fool," she whispered against the warm skin of his throat. "I feel like I've wasted so much of my time, chasing something that wasn't real."

"Don't say that." Yukiya's hand found hers. "Nothing you did was a waste. You found the motivation you needed to improve your magic, build your knowledge, and graduate. Don't sell yourself short. You're wonderful." He hugged her tightly. "I'm so proud of you."

She clenched her eyes shut, feeling tears anew, but for a different reason now, as a tender ache blossomed and throbbed in her chest. How had she been blessed with this man? "Yukiya…" She turned, seeking him out, and he met her lips halfway, kissing her until they both gasped for air.

When their heartbeats had finally slowed, he looked around the room, cocking his head slightly the way he did whenever he was listening to make sure they were alone. "Besides, it's probably for the best."

Clara stared up at his face, confused.

Yukiya's expression was somber. "If we'd broken the contract, I would have lost my magic. And now, I need it more than ever. To keep you safe." His voice wavered tenderly, and his hands lowered to cover the slight curve of her abdomen. "Both of you."

She shuddered, thinking of the dream she'd once had, of a beautiful little boy that looked just like his papa, running along the beach alongside the two familiars. Had that been a deception as well?

Would they need to fight someday, in order to keep their family safe?

As if he'd read her thoughts, Yukiya began to pat her head, as he had always liked to do. "It's okay," he said. "We'll be alright. I won't let anything happen." And then he smiled faintly. "Besides, it's been a long time since I've wished my magic gone. You showed me, remember?"

She thought of a shower of Aruenaristies, falling like snowflakes. "I remember."

"Mmm." He stared out the window, expression distant, before he turned back to regard her, his mismatched eyes seeming to have darkened with resolve. His voice dropped low. "Let me show you some of the other ways I've come to appreciate my magic. Lie back against the pillows, Clara."

He was trying to distract her. Even as she complied, she knew that the problem at hand was far from over.

But for now, she would let him.


	26. Invincible - Klaus

"How did you know?"

"Huh?"

"About my brother. That he was…you know…" There was an embarrassed cough, and the rest of the sentence was muttered. "…the one."

Klaus stopped in his tracks.

The voices were unmistakable, and just around the corner. If he'd gone any further, he would have revealed himself.

This seemed as good a moment as any not to reveal himself.

He glanced around, noticing a pillar. If it had been Clara, she'd have ducked behind it, thinking herself hidden but - like an ostrich with its head in the sand - still blatantly obvious to anyone with half a brain. But Klaus wasn't Clara, so he whipped out his wand and muttered a nearly soundless camouflage spell.

Klaus usually considered himself a morally upstanding individual, but he certainly wasn't above eavesdropping when the reasons were right. Or when the subject was himself, and the speaker his adorable but often exasperating girlfriend.

As he'd expected, Clara was stammering. Klaus could picture her – head ducked, eyes downcast, cheeks as red as beets. "Wha… I… W-What kind of question is that, Elias? That's so embarrassing!"

Klaus rolled his eyes. Here would have been the moment where – if it'd been him – he'd have reached out, grasped Clara's chin, and glared at her until he'd scared the answer out of her. But because it was Elias, that didn't happen.

"N-Nevermind! F-Forget I asked!" Elias sounded as panicked as Clara. Klaus' brow twitched in irritation at having seemingly been denied a choice morsel of information.

"No, w-wait!" There was a rustle of movement, and a few steps, and by the next moment they sounded a little further away, though still audible to Klaus where he stood. "Elias…is this about L – "

 _"Don't say it!"_

"Eeeeeeek!"

"Owww! My ears!"

Klaus winced in sympathy. Clara's shriek had caused a shrill ringing in his own eardrums; she must have nearly deafened Elias, who'd been right next to her.

"But Elias… are you okay?"

Elias' grumbling subsided into sullen silence. Klaus' brow furrowed uneasily, and he was tempted to emerge from where he hid, to see what was wrong with his brother. If someone was bothering Elias… His thoughts flashed to Luca Orlem, briefly. Those two had never gotten along, and it only seemed to be getting worse recently. Luca's magical abilities were certainly worthy of note, but sometimes his behavior strayed a little too far – particularly when Elias was concerned.

Klaus' attention was diverted as Clara spoke again. "It's alright," she was saying. "You don't have to say anything if you don't want. But I'll always be your friend."

"H-Hart…"

Klaus could imagine his brother's face, scarlet, as he tried to respond to Clara's unabashed offer of friendship.

"I'll try to answer your question," Clara added, kindly sparing Elias further comment. Klaus heard her take a deep breath, and to his disgust, he found himself holding his own, before he forced himself to breathe normally again.

There was a short silence. Klaus pictured the way Clara thought - the little furrow in her brow, and the way she sometimes fidgeted with the tips of her bunny ear pigtails.

"I didn't realize at first," she began. "I didn't realize until I thought there was no way we could be together. And then it hurt, so badly. I always thought love would be a happy feeling…but it's not. It makes happy things happier, and sad things sadder. And with Klaus…" Clara paused for a long moment. "I didn't realize until I knew the way he really was."

"What do you mean?" Elias prompted, his tone cautiously curious.

Clara hummed thoughtfully. "A lot of people act a certain way, but after you get to know them, you realize whether they're truly a nice person or not. Like you," she giggled. "You're kind of hard to approach at first, but you're really very nice. You help me with a lot of things."

"It's n-nothing," Elias muttered, and she laughed.

"See? But Klaus is like that too," she continued. "I thought for a long time that he was just mean and sadistic. But then I realized that even though he likes to tease me, he's not a bad person inside. He cares a lot. And he believes in me, no matter how badly I fail sometimes. He's always believed in me. And when I know he believes in me," she breathed. "I feel invincible."

Something in Klaus' chest staggered, and he was forced to close his eyes. In the darkness he was suddenly confronted with an image that he'd pictured many times before – Clara, protecting the unicorn, every bit of her fledgling magic straining to maintain her spell. How she'd clung to his words – Wait for me – and bought herself every possible second, scaling the heights of her own courage, all because she trusted him with her own life.

"Once I saw the real, _true_ Klaus," she concluded, "that's when I knew."

* * *

 _Invincible._

Klaus pondered the word over a cup of Assam tea later that afternoon in his office. The more he thought about it, the more it was so utterly _Clara_ to say something as dramatic and unrealistic, and yet terrifyingly genuine.

If she said it, it had to be true. Invincible. He would remember it forever.

And how did she make him feel?

It was ironic, Klaus reflected, because she made him feel utterly the opposite way. Vulnerable, like he had a living, breathing piece of his own heart running around outside his body, where she could be hurt by her own uncontrolled magic, or attacked by demons, or whisked away through time. Fallible, like how he'd been when faced with a barrier spell that separated them, but that he couldn't overcome because he'd been – for the first time in his life – truly and utterly _afraid_.

But she was right. Love made happy things happier, and sad things sadder. And now, he could never imagine his life without the vicissitudes of emotion she wrought within him – good and bad.

There was a knock on his door. At his word, Clara pushed her way inside, stopping short as he rose to walk towards her. "Klaus? What's going on? Ooh - !"

Her words were suddenly muffled as he kissed her.

"What was that for?" she asked, when they separated.

"Are you complaining?"

"N-No!" She blushed, looking down at the floor briefly. "But, Klaus…"

"Because I wanted to," he said evenly. "Now leave your knapsack in here. We're going out."

"We are?" Her expression brightened with incredulity. "Where?"

"You'll see. It's a treat."

He hid a smile as she crowed with joy. Ever since falling in love with Clara, Klaus had mentally re-catalogued all the places he knew, labeling each one date-worthy or otherwise. Clara was so sheltered and yet so genuine in all her reactions that it was always a delight taking her anywhere.

He was pretty sure she would love this place.

"Klaus?" Clara was suddenly looking a little nervous again. "Why, all of a sudden? Is there something special I forgot?" She fidgeted, nibbling on her lip.

The temptation to tease her was there but he refrained, this time. "No," he answered. "Can't a man take his girlfriend out just because he wants to?"

"Is that…okay?"

"Yes," he said. And as she flushed with joy, he thought, _because you deserve it_.


	27. Yukiya - Chains

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Always," he breathed, and closed his eyes.

He had expected a kiss, or perhaps a freshly baked cookie pressed against his mouth, as she sometimes liked to do when he came home. What he had not expected was a murmured incantation and a flash of light, visible even behind closed eyelids, and then the feel of something suddenly surrounding his wrists and ankles, and growing to encircle his limbs and torso.

Yukiya's eyes flew open.

He glanced upward, where his arms had been resting above his head. They were now tangled in flowering vines, magically conjured. He tested his strength against them and blinked. They were holding him down in place, against the grassy bank where he lay.

They were magical chains.

In a moment of panic, he sought out Clara's gaze. There she was, still looking down at him with loving eyes, her wand in hand, magical residue still sparkling at the tip. Was she nervous? Her wand hand seemed to shake, just a little. Around them, the tall grasses waved and whispered, and he could hear the sounds of animals in the night some distance away. He tried to focus on those sounds, anything to banish the sudden tightness that seemed to grip his chest when he thought about the magical energy crawling along his skin.

"Yukiya…" Clara murmured, closing the distance between them with her lips. Her kiss was warm and soothing, and the smell of her surrounded him, centering him. She smelled like soap and sugar, with a current of anxiety running beneath it, along with something fundamental that he always instantly recognized. "It's alright."

As she looked down at him, her gaze traveling down his bound body cushioned in the grass, she blushed, cheeks going dark. The familiar sight made him smile, and he relaxed minutely. "Clara…?"

"I…" Her previous confidence forgotten, she stuttered. "I-I t-thought…" She took a deep breath. "Does the magic bother you?"

Yukiya hesitated. Six years at the Academy, six years since Clara had saved him from his own self-loathing – as much a curse as any other – and he still could barely stand the feeling of magic rippling along his skin. He didn't mind casting it anymore, particularly when he could help her with it, but when it was cast on him…

He recalled the surge of power coursing through his veins for the first time, the way his skin had felt electrified and his blood white-hot, even as he heard the smug sound of a demon wolf's voice, raising and condemning him all at once.

For a moment he thought he sensed the ghost of pain in his left eye.

Yukiya swallowed.

Clara's lip quivered guiltily and the vines loosed their grip. "I'm sorry," she said. "I just thought…"

She leaned over him, long hair falling around his face like a curtain. "Remember when you used magic to make me smile?" Another blush darkened her cheeks. "I thought…" She gulped, her bravery abandoning her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, as if she couldn't bear to watch his reaction. "I t-thought I'd use magic to l-love you."

Her last words were barely whispered, such that if Yukiya's hearing hadn't been enhanced, he would never have heard her. She plucked a flower off one of the vines by his hip, and raised it to his face. Aruenaristy, he thought, and he suddenly remembered – a crown of them to woo a girl uncertain of her abilities, a shower of them to anoint the beginnings of their love story. Just days ago, a bouquet of them to bind them together forever.

Of course, he thought, as he concentrated on the magic. This was Clara's magic, an extension of herself. Warm, gentle, exuberant, unrestrained. What encircled his body was as much a part of her as her hands, or her lips, or her smile. The flowers, he noticed, were in full bloom.

He leaned forward, straining against the vines holding him back, and managed to reach her mouth with his own.

I'm okay, he told her with his kiss. Six years together now, and married, she understood the language of his mouth, and her eyes went dark. The vines tightened against his skin, restraining, though never hurting him.

The white petals caressed his skin, and suddenly he shivered, though not from fear.

"Then love me," he said.


	28. I Trusted You - Klaus

Note: The next several chapters are microfic prompts from tumblr, and contain several pairings I have not written before.

* * *

"SURPRISE!"

The last thing he'd been expecting when he'd entered the Prefect's office was to find it invaded - and festooned in ribbons and balloons.

To his horror, Randy was standing on his desk, mismatched shoes scuffing the antique wood surface, conjuring candies that fell out of a pink vapor cloud and onto the carpet beneath. "Happy birthday, Klaus!" The pink-haired menace waved cheerfully and blew loudly into a bright yellow plastic horn. His stuffed animal familiar wailed in protest at the sound and ran off to hide.

Nearby, Elias and the other boys from his year mingled awkwardly next to a double-tiered pink cake and a bowl of punch. Elias' eyes beseeched him for forgiveness, from all the way across the room. _Please don't blame for me this. I had nothing to do with it,_ his brother was saying.

Klaus turned to his girlfriend beside him, whose nervous giggles gave her away as the perpetrator. " _Clara,_ " he growled. "I trusted you! You said it was going to be a _quiet_ celebration!"

"I couldn't help it!" She grinned at him. "You deserve to have a real birthday party!" Out of nowhere she produced a pointed paper hat. "Here!"

"I am _not_ wearing that," he hissed.

"Pleeeease?"

" _No_."

"Klauuuus," she said. Then to his shock, she pulled his face down towards hers and gave him a brazen, very un-Clara-like kiss, in front of _everyone._

Dimly he heard catcalls and laughter, along with embarrassed sputtering from his brother.

When they separated, Clara was blushing equally hard, but looked up at him with an expression slightly bordering on vulnerability. "Try to have fun, Klaus? Please?"

Her lip trembled. It didn't escape his notice.

"Alright," he finally relented, but before the joy could fully spread across her face, he leaned down and murmured into her ear, "but you're going to pay for this later."


	29. Collapse - Randy

It was a sight she'd never expected to see – her effervescent, energetic Randy, collapsed on the ground, unmoving.

"Randy?!" Clara shrieked, sprinting over to where he lay. She crouched down towards his face, and then went rigid with horror when she realized she couldn't feel his breath. She nudged his shoulder, and when that produced no response, began to shake him. "Randy? Please wake up!"

Nothing. No sound, no movement, but the rustling of the grass around them.

She looked around frantically for Taffy, but for once, the little bear was nowhere in sight. And when she looked back at Randy's face, to her horror, his skin tone was beginning to turn ashen.

"Randy…" Clara whimpered once more, before she took a deep breath. "I need to find Prefect Klaus," she murmured to herself. "Randy, hold on!"

Moments later, she returned with Klaus in tow. The tall golden-haired Prefect had not hesitated to come to her aid the moment he'd seen her expression.

At the first sight of Randy's prone form, Klaus muttered something and waved his wand. Suddenly Randy's body jerked. Tears of relief fell down Clara's face as the pink-haired wizard began to gasp and cough, the percussive spasms wracking his whole body. He finally opened his eyes.

"Clara…" he murmured, and she dove into his arms.

"Thank goodness," she sobbed. "You're alright. Thank you, Prefect Klaus…"

Randy looked beside to where Klaus was standing, gazing at them steadily. "Klaus…"

"Irresponsible, as always," Klaus said sternly. "That kind of metabolism spell…you're lucky. If you'd held out any longer, your heart would have given out."

A horrified silence fell upon them. Randy ducked his head, gaze fixed on the ground, as Clara began to tremble.

"What is wrong with you?" Klaus spat. "How can you be so irresponsible? Do you enjoy making your girl cry?" Klaus's gaze flickered to Clara briefly before it hardened, focused again on Randy. "Get your act together and learn to take care of yourself," he muttered, and then turned, disappearing back into the school building.

Alone now, they sat together, Clara still clinging to him, listening to the sound of his renewed heartbeat. "Serge," she whispered. "What did you do?"

His eyes went distant, and he thought of a red-haired boy, faraway and frozen.

Would it have worked? Would the same spell that had accelerated his own beating heart bring to life one that had been turned to stone?

"Please," Clara whimpered. "Don't do that ever again. Don't leave me alone like that."

His arms tightened around her.

Would it have been worth it to die, finding out?

"Never again," he whispered.

His mind was made up. It was a promise.


	30. Hide - Elias x Luca (Lulias)

"Quick, hide!"

"What – "

Elias' protest was abruptly cut off, as he found himself jerked forward by the hand. Suddenly he had no choice but to follow at a run, as Luca dragged him in the direction of the next open classroom.

To his horror, he heard a distinctly familiar voice behind him. There was a sharp incantation, and then he and Luca were abruptly frozen in place.

"Dammit," Luca muttered from beside him.

The caster had begun to walk towards them. The fear in Elias' chest grew with each approaching footstep until it was nearly painful.

"Elias. And…Luca Orlem?"

"How can we help you, Prefect Klaus?" Luca grinned, showing no remorse whatsoever.

Elias still could not see his brother; the older Goldstein was standing behind him. But he could imagine Klaus' expression, eyes narrowed as he deliberatively assessed the situation. Elias' whole body seemed to grow hot, and then cold.

Get it over with, Elias thought desperately at his brother. Through the binding spell, he stubbornly tightened his grip on Luca's fingers, even as his palms grew clammy. Yell at me. Just do it.

When his brother finally spoke, it was in a surprisingly bland tone. "Do I want to ask what you two were doing alone in my office?"

"Probably not," Luca answered cheerfully.

Elias cringed.

There was a long silence. Then suddenly, the binding spell was gone, and he almost collapsed onto the ground.

"Don't trespass again," Klaus said, before he turned in the other direction and began walking away.

Elias stood, shocked. Was that it? Klaus… He stared back after his brother, and then at Luca. "I thought he'd say something for sure…" he murmured, dazed.

"Oh, and Elias," Klaus added without stopping. "You may want to adjust your collar." With that comment, the Prefect disappeared into his office.

Elias glanced down and blanched at the sight of the incriminating evidence on his exposed collarbone, which blatantly broadcasted what they had in fact been up to in the Prefect's office.

"Pffft…hahahaha!" Luca doubled over, laughing hysterically as Elias hastened to cover up his neck.

"What are you laughing at?" Elias hissed. "That wasn't funny! That could have been awful!"

Luca straightened and smirked, reaching out to tug Elias' necktie in place. "But it wasn't. What were you so worried about?"

The green-haired boy turned around and began to walk away. Elias stared after him, and then turned to gaze back at the Prefect's office. "Nothing, I guess…"

He gave himself the space of several seconds, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. And then, with a small smile, he ran to catch up to Luca.


	31. Tremble - Luca

"Luca," Clara whispered. "You're shaking."

"Aw, you noticed," Luca replied, mock disappointment in his voice. "I was hoping to impress you."

His teasing tone hid nothing from her, now that Clara understood how to hear what he said between his words. Luca's hands were trembling as they brushed her skin, and his voice had wavered.

"Don't be nervous," she whispered, as he leaned down to press a line of kisses along her neck.

She was rewarded by the sensation of gusty exhale against her shoulder, as he chuckled shortly. "My princess," he began, "shouldn't I be the one comforting you at a time like this?" He moved to press a tender kiss to her forehead, even as his hands skirted hesitantly lower.

At his touch, she flushed at the thought of what he was doing, and what he might do in the hours to come.

"We're in this together, aren't we?" she asked. "I want…" She took a deep breath, her cheeks burning with both embarrassment and emotion. "I want you to know. I love you no matter what."

He stilled, and stared at her for a very long time.

"How many times must I fall in love with you?" he breathed.

Maybe it was the angle, or the light, but she thought he suddenly looked vulnerable, and very beautiful.

Then he moved forward decisively to capture her lips, and she didn't think again for a long, long time.


	32. Sunbathing - Luca x Amelia

"Luca! What are you doing?"

"Sunbathing," Luca answered, leaning back against the grass. "It's a nice day. Why don't you join me?"

"But…" Amelia sputtered. "Why is your shirt off?"

"Now, how can you expect a guy to work on his tan with his shirt on?" Luca smirked.

Somewhere in the distance, Amelia heard a girl squealing, and then a chorus of titters. She flushed. "Put your shirt back on, Luca!"

"Why?" Luca slanted a carefree glance in her direction.

Amelia looked around, desperately. They were gathering an audience. "Luca, do it!"

"But it's so warm outside."

That obstinate little - that's it! Face flushing with rage, Amelia began to unclasp her cloak. She tossed it to the ground, and then started untying the big yellow bow at her neck.

Luca sat straight up. "Amelia? What are you doing?"

She didn't answer, tossing the yellow sash onto the grass. And then her hands went to the buttons at the top of her shirt.

"Whoa, whoa!" Luca dove towards her, grasping her hands and holding them still. "Stop! What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" Amelia fumed. "Why is it okay for you to sit around half-naked, while it's not okay for me? You big flaming hypocrite!"

Luca laughed sheepishly, holding his hands up. "Okay, okay…you got me. I'll put my shirt back on." He paused. "Are you mad?"

"Am I - ugh! Sometimes, Luca Orlem, mad doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about you…"

"Madly in love, then?"

"Ugh! You're not getting off that easy today!"

"What if I get you off - "

"Don't even say it!"


	33. Comfort - Yukiya & Elias (friendship)

Elias pushed open the door to his room, stifling a yawn. It had been a long afternoon in the library, but he thought he had the theoretical basis down for a new magical tool. He'd been solving equations until the warning bell had rang, signaling that it was ten minutes prior to curfew.

As he stepped inside, he started at the presence of someone already there, before relaxing in recognition. It was just Yukiya, his new roommate. The quiet boy had arrived just a couple of days ago, not saying much to anyone at all. But his appearance spoke for him – mysterious eyepatch, sinister-looking wolf. The rumors had begun almost as soon as he'd arrived, none of them flattering.

Elias thought they were ridiculous.

He nodded in greeting to Yukiya, who seemed to barely notice him. Elias set down his knapsack, drawing out his books. He glanced at the clock; nearly time for dinner, but there was still time for a snack.

From deep within his bag, he drew out a bar of chocolate. Glancing around and making sure that Yukiya didn't seem to notice, Elias tore open the wrapper quietly, broke off a piece, and placed it in his mouth.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, letting the thick, mellow sweetness settle on his tongue.

"I guessed all of this must be yours, then, Elias?"

Elias jumped, and spun around. Yukiya was looking at him expectantly. In his hands, he was holding several bars of chocolate – the same chocolate Elias was currently eating.

Elias almost choked. "Um…" He flushed, swallowing the rest of the chocolate quickly. "How did you find all that?"

Yukiya tilted his head, expression still blank. "There were four behind the top shelf of your bookshelf. Six under your bed. You also left five in my empty drawer, which are the ones I have here. I found them when I first moved in." Yukiya glanced around the room. "I think there's some more in your dresser but I didn't look there."

"E-enough!" Elias cringed, face flaming. How had Yukiya manage to scout out all of the hiding places with barely any effort? "I just…"

Yukiya shrugged. "It's okay. Here you go." He placed the chocolate bars on Elias' desk before returning back to his own bed. "It's normal. Everyone has their own favorite comfort food."

"Ah…" Speechless, Elias watched as Yukiya resumed what he was doing before – staring outside. Elias' gaze fell to the wolf in the corner, who was watching him with what seemed like a smirk.

Elias flushed and looked away.

"Yukiya," he ventured hesitantly.

"Hm?"

"What's your favorite comfort food, then?" Elias felt like he was grasping at straws for a conversation.

Yukiya did not turn around, but Elias thought his voice sounded a little quieter when he finally answered. "My mother's meat pie."

"Ahh…" Elias was unsure of what to say. There was so much he didn't know about Yukiya, and the other boy just never seemed to offer anything of himself. Instead, he spent most of the time gazing outside the window, as if longing for escape.

Elias thought he might know how that felt.

"Yukiya," he called again. "Well…it's not meat pie, but they're serving stew for dinner tonight. Want to go together later?"

There was a moment when things seemed to go still. Elias shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't good at this type of stuff, and he opened his mouth, ready to play it off –

"Alright," Yukiya said, suddenly turning around. "That would be nice."

Elias blinked, a wash of relief coursing through him. "Uh…good. Good." And then he turned quickly, taking his seat at his desk. He glanced at the pile of chocolate bars that Yukiya had found. "And you're welcome to have any of the chocolate. Anytime," he added sheepishly.

"Thanks."

There was an amused huff in the corner from the wolf that Elias ignored, in favor of the peaceful feeling that was growing in his chest. Yukiya was certainly not what he'd expected in a roommate.

But Elias had a feeling that they would get along just fine.


	34. How Dare You - Klaus (AU)

Note: Set in the same AU universe as The Maiden and the Merman.

* * *

One moment, she was there happily floating, limbs moving fluidly through the water as she treaded.

The next, she was gone.

For just a moment, he froze, veins turned to ice in terror, before he dove under the water's surface. Once underneath, he scanned his surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of dark hair, or pale, thrashing feet.

There - he caught a flash of Clara's panicked, fearful expression, just a hair's breadth from drowning. He swam towards her, fins powering through the water and propelling him over to her side in a matter of seconds.

Seconds too late. He wrapped his arms around her now-limp form and surged upwards to break the water's surface. "Clara!" he gasped. Her eyes were closed and she didn't respond. He moved frantically towards a nearby outcropping of rock, setting her down on a relatively flat surface before putting his face by her nose.

She wasn't breathing.

He would have to breath for her. He moved over her, placing his mouth over hers and pushing air into her lungs, the way he'd seen someone do once on the shore.

Moments later, she twitched and gasped, and started to cough.

Weak with relief, he moved back in the water, giving her room to gradually push herself upright. Her lips formed the shape of his name, though she couldn't quiet give voice to it.

He couldn't help but gather her in his arms then. Her skin was chilled, and he started rubbing her back as she trembled with tears and shock.

But she was alive.

"How _dare_ you," he whispered. "Don't do that to me _ever_ again. Do you hear me?"

Clara's lips moved again. "S-sorry," she wheezed against his chest, barely making a sound. "I…Klaus…"

He listened but she seemed to lose the energy to speak and sagged against him limply. For long minutes he held her close, savoring the tiny thumps of her heart as her pulse fluttered weakly but steadily at her throat.

They couldn't keep doing this. Humans weren't made to be creatures of the sea. She would always be in danger, as long as she kept coming to see him.

It was unacceptable.

And yet he couldn't bring himself to send her away, couldn't deny himself the precious, rare days where he got to touch her, after weeks of being tantalized by mere sight and sound through the senses of his familiar.

There had to be some other way. And as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, savoring the feeling of her skin under his lips, Klaus vowed to find it.


	35. Illusion - Klaus

Note: Set in the same universe as Wedding and Mirror.

* * *

The moment he feels the magic, he knows what is happening.

"An illusion fairy!" Klaus calls out. "Go towards the light!"

But though he recognizes the threat, it does nothing to prepare him.

 _It's snowing outside, and light filters through their curtains. Through the glass windowpane, he can see snowdrifts piled four feet high. Klaus squints – it must be barely dawn – and he turns back to bed, but not before checking on the woman nestled deep in the covers beside him._

 _In a moment, he relaxes. His wife is soundly asleep. These days it's hard for her to rest comfortably, and while once he might have teased her awake, today he'll be satisfied to let her sleep in. She'll need her strength in the days to come, after all. They both will._

 _He leans down to press a kiss to Clara's temple, inhaling the fragrance of her hair. Then, on impulse, he reaches down to stroke the bulge of her belly, greeting their unborn daughter._

 _Next to him, Clara shivers, and shifts with a soft sound. Klaus frowns in concern. The chill in the winter air has permeated even their bedroom in Clara's little house. He presses his lips to his ring and from there emerges his wand._

 _"Flau," he murmurs, and the fireplace before them springs to life. In moments, there's a merry blaze that will warm their room, keeping her comfortable. He glances around, noting the weak winter light that spills between the curtain folds. It will wake her soon, if he does nothing._

 _"Tenebrae," he murmurs, and then for kicks, "Lumos Stella."_

 _Their room is cast in darkness, and then illuminated by the glow of stars, gentler than the morning light. He looks up, noticing the brightest one, twinkling above them._

 _Is it just his imagination, or has a second star appeared besides the first, shining just as brightly?_

"Klaus!" A voice finally reaches him, and he steps in its direction. _Go towards_ _the light,_ he remembers.

It is difficult to do when the darkness is so warm, and so kind.

When he finally emerges, they are waiting for him. Elias' face is tense with worry. "Brother! Are you alright?"

Klaus nods, wordlessly, unable to speak. Behind his brother, Clara is pale, and she moves towards him, reaching out in concern to squeeze his arm.

"Klaus," she says, studying him. "You were gone for so long…is everything okay?"

His gaze flickers over her, and he reminds himself with the sights he has grown accustomed to – the ring she wears that is not his, the concern in her face for a brother, not a husband. The fullness of her belly –

"I'm fine." He turns. "Let's keep moving," he says brusquely. "We should get out of here before the fairy returns."

For a moment, he closes his eyes, and he remembers the warmth of a bed under a field of stars.

If he lingers a bit too long, they don't ask why.


	36. Tremor - Klaus

Note: For those who are unfamiliar with the symptoms of Parkinson's disease, the first and most telling sign tends to be a tremor.

* * *

He cannot hide it anymore.

Rather than continue to stare down the traitorous tremor, he closes his hand around a teacup instead, grounding himself against the cool marble countertop.

His body goes from cold to hot as volcanic anger suddenly plumes from the depths of his chest, and he lets that emotion run its course. He sucks in deep, gasping breaths, attempting to retain some semblance of control, and hopes desperately that if he is shaking now, it is from fury, not disease.

When it is over, the teacup is in splinters. Klaus begins to clean up the mess, careful not to cut himself. When he finishes, he thinks of his wife, and wonders how much time they have left.

* * *

She doesn't seem to notice for weeks. In that time, though, he is tense, prone to snapping - something he hasn't done at her in years. He hates himself for it, that he has injected their remaining time together with poison.

But he cannot bring himself to say the words.

One night, they are preparing for bed when the world suddenly seems to tilt. He collapses onto their bed with a grunt, and Clara comes running.

"Darling," she murmurs. "Darling…"

He mutters that he is alright, that it has passed. And when he looks up at her to see how she responds, he is able to read her expression as he has for years and years, since the first day he saw her, standing small and startled in a great hall in front of a scale that would decide her destiny.

She knows. Of course she does. In all their years together, she is the only one who has ever known him. Why should this be any different?

"There's no cure," he says quietly. "It'll just get worse and worse. Soon I won't be able to take care of myself, and you'll be stuck nursing an invalid who can barely get himself out of bed." That last thought disgusts him, that he who had always prided himself in his achievements, should be reduced to this - a burden, that she would have to bear alone.

He looks down, defeated, and she draws him close.

"I promised I'd love you forever," she says, "even when you turned old and gray."

The words from long ago still bring a smile to his face. "It looks like I'm putting you to the test now, Bunnyhead. You'd better not have been lying."

She kisses his forehead affectionately. "This is one test I won't fail."

* * *

That night, she disappears.

He remembers the first time they slept together, curled up against each other in bed under a tableau of stars. As serious about her as he'd been, he'd still wondered how he'd ever get used to all her little fidgets and twitches that jostled him awake.

Now her absence is what wakes him. He opens his eyes and the space beside him is cold.

He waits.

In the morning she returns. He feels the hum of her teleportation spell in the living room, and he manages to stand, cursing the trembling in his leg. She enters their bedroom and stops short at the sight of him.

"Where did you go?" he asks. There is no suspicion in his voice - only curiosity.

"Back to school."

He moves towards her carefully, teeth gritted with determination - with the conviction that no disease could take from him the pleasure of greeting his wife. She waits and allows him to come to her before tucking herself against him, arms wrapping around his waist.

There is something cool against her neck, and it presses hard against him. Distracted, he only has a moment to notice it - small, and pearly, and white - before it begins to glow.

"Clara," he murmurs. "What - "

And then his body begins to hum. It is as if youth is returning to his limbs; they are lighter, stronger than they've been in months. He closes his eyes against the flow of holy power, squeezing his arms around her, clinging tightly as if afraid she'll be swept away.

When he opens his eyes, he feels like a new man. He raises one hand to his face, and is stunned.

Stillness. Blessed, blessed stillness. And - he makes a fist, clenching tight - _strength_.

Clara is smiling up at him, through a sheen of tears.

He grabs her chin, reveling in the renewed vigor in his fingertips, even as his heart fills with cold dread. "Clara," he gasps. "How - "

"The unicorn," she says, simply.

He knows there must be more. His voice grows ragged with fear. "What price did you have to pay for this?"

She chuckles. "It's alright Klaus. I saved his life once, you know. I was able to bargain a little."

" _Tell me_."

She strokes his face, and her fingers move back to trail through silvery-blonde locks. "He promised, that as long as we both lived, we would be together. And that's all that matters."

Her lifespan. Whatever she might have had after he was gone, she had given up.

"Clara," he breathes in horror.

She quells his protest with a tender kiss. "Hush…"

"You shouldn't have," he murmured. "Little fool…"

Her eyes are shining, utterly serenely, like a spring under a quiet moon. "You're getting slow in your old age, Klaus," she teases.

"Why you little…"

She giggles at his empty threat, and then tucks herself back against his chest.

"Don't you see? It was a fair price for the unicorn. They live alone, and they'd never understand." She reached up to kiss him. And through her kisses, she whispered, "For me, it's the greatest gift. Now I know I'll never have to live a day without you."


	37. Coffee - Klaus

Clara stared down into the teapot in disbelief.

Had she messed up again? At this, of all things? She'd made enough tea since becoming Klaus' Buddy that she'd been positive she hadn't done anything wrong. And even if she wasn't the best wizardess, she was supposed to be good at cooking!

But something was very, very wrong. She brought the cup to her nose and sniffed hesitantly. The smooth, fragrant aroma was unmistakable.

Coffee.

She gulped. Klaus was not going to be happy.

Luckily it was still early and he hadn't seemed to notice. There was time enough to start again, though she winced at the thought of having to throw out a perfectly good batch of tea leaves, now coffee-soaked. It had been Assam tea, too.

Though she was extra vigilant this time, it happened again.

"How?! Ugh!" This time she couldn't hold back the frustration.

"What did you do now?"

She froze, and then spun around. Klaus was looking irritated, as he often did in the morning. Usually nothing calmed him down like his first cup of tea. But now…

"Umm…" How was she supposed to explain this to him?

He sniffed suspiciously. "Is that smell… _coffee_?"

She giggled desperately. "Um…I thought we could switch it up for today?"

He stared at her in incredulity, as if her suggestion was so unfathomable that it took actual time to process. " _What_."

"Never mind! Just wait a little longer!" She hurried to clean the coffee up. Third time was the charm, right?

" _I'll_ do it," he grumbled, and she quickly moved aside as he took over. The water was still heated, so he cleaned and refilled the little wire basket with fresh tea leaves and began pouring, from high above, just the way he'd taught her. When he was done, he covered the teapot, and they waited in silence.

When he lifted the lid off the pot, there it was again. Coffee.

"What is the meaning of this…" Klaus hissed, looking increasingly furious. Then suddenly his eyes narrowed. Reaching into his cloak, he grabbed his wand, muttered an incantation, and concentrated.

Within seconds, a scowl had crossed his expression. "Deleccio!" he hissed. And then, "One more time, Clara. In the meantime, I've got something to take care of…"

With hardly a glance back, Klaus stormed out the door.

Clara blinked, and then turned back to start the process a third time. She emptied the pot, refilled the infuser, reheated the water, and poured. Finally, she could smell the comforting, woodsy fragrance of Assam tea filling the air. The smell always brought her thoughts back to this very place, to a day long ago when she and Klaus had sat together and truly spoken for the first time…

The door suddenly swung open, causing a gust of wind to blow through the room.

"Clara!" Randy waved, a wide grin across his face. "I'm sorry if the teapot got you in trouble with Klaus! But it was a neat trick, wasn't it?"

She stared. "Randy… _you_ did this?"

Suddenly there was a loud sound from outside the hallway. "Oops! Gotta go!" Randy's expression looked momentarily panicked as he bolted back outside.

The door swung closed, but Clara heard a startled yelp, and then two sets of footsteps frantically rushing down the hall.

"Wahhhh, Klaus! It's not fair! You hid and surprised me! You cheated!"

"You've got some nerve! Did you really think you could mess with my tea and get away with it? _GET BACK HERE_!"


	38. Cold - Azusa

On some nights, he dreams that he's killed her.

In his dreams she shines so brightly that she's like the sun itself; he can't look at her without going blind. He stands before her, all mouths and greed, and the only thing he can do is to reach out and consume her; how else to banish a shadow than to swallow a star?

She doesn't scream. There's no sound but a sigh, a last breath escaping; nothing left of her except the ghost of her last expression, a regretful melancholy tinged with the red stain of betrayal.

Azusa wonders if it hurts.

Nowadays when he awakens he cannot even register the panic anymore. Everything is gray defeat, the long night but one more journey through the unrelenting cold, like winter in Hinomoto after Tsukasa passed away. It is a struggle to raise his head against the gravity of suffering.

He might cast his eyes upon the bed in the corner but more often than not it's unoccupied. It is a little better when Randy is around; the clamor sometimes shakes him awake and gives him something to focus on, but the pink-haired wizard is hard to pin down, like a champagne bubble. It is exhausting to try.

Instead Azusa lies upon the too-soft mattress in this strange foreign land and stares into the night. Out of the corner of his eye he thinks he sees them: demons, blooming, bursting, beautifully in the dark.

How many times has he killed her? How many times was it real?

He waits for the sun to rise; only then can he know for sure.

* * *

When morning comes he waits faithfully at the gate. Students swarm around him like fish; she is the only one with a face.

At the sight of her, the knot within his chest eases a little, just enough for him to draw breath. She approaches; he forgets to breathe again. He holds out his hand, and she takes it slowly, and is it too much to imagine that her hesitation lessens each day?

Things are different now; there is a chasm of distance between them that he put there, that they have yet to cross. Her face is straining with hope, but her body betrays her, darting around him like a frightened rabbit when faced with its devourer.

She is right to be afraid.

But he's foolish, and desperate enough to try, and try again, and hope that maybe, one day, it'll be enough to bring her back to him, forever.


	39. Secrets - Klaus

Note: Set several years in the future, when Klaus and Clara are married but before they have children. Klaus is teaching at the Academy, and Clara is doing...something else.

* * *

When he receives the note, he is so stunned that he drops his teacup.

The porcelain shatters against the stone floor of his office, but Klaus barely notices. For a moment, his vision seems to blur, and he feels the very blood in his veins going cold.

He takes one breath, and then another, until the tide of his fear recedes.

Then, he scribbles a quick note that he sends winging in the direction of the Headmaster's office, and disappears out the door.

The broken teacup lies forgotten.

* * *

To his surprise, someone is waiting for him at the hospital. The woman stands off to the side, wearing a Ministry uniform, holding a notepad. In the busy reception area of the hospital, filled the clamor of raucous children and anxious family members, the lone woman stands out not only for her cool demeanor, but also for the way her interest sharpens when he appears.

"Mr. Goldstein," she calls out, walking towards him with crisp steps. "I'm glad you could come at such short notice." She extends a hand, and Klaus stares at it.

"My _wife_ has been hurt," he hisses, turning away from her, too worried to be polite. "Of course I'm here. Is she alright?"

"Mrs. Goldstein will be fine," the woman answers with a bland smile. "But we need to speak with you."

"I'm going to see Clara," Klaus announces, pushing his way past her. From the front desk, he learns where she is being held, and he heads for the stairs, bounding up two by two.

When he finds her, he can barely believe the sight. His wife lies in the hospital bed, seemingly asleep, but he can't tell for sure because dark bandages are wound around her head, covering her eyes. For long moments, he stares, unable to look elsewhere, but she doesn't move.

At some point he comes aware of the precise clicking of a woman's heels, somewhere behind him. "She'll be fine."

Klaus whirls around, his mouth contorting in anger. "She doesn't look fine!"

"Blunt force trauma to the back of the head," the woman continues. "She may wake up without use of her vision, but they expect that it will return. Her optic nerves are completely undamaged."

Klaus can barely put together the words in a way that make sense. His Clara. Blunt force trauma…how? Had she been attacked?

"How did this happen?" he snarls. "And who are you, anyway?"

"That's what I was going to explain before you ran off," she answers serenely. "We'll need to go to a private room. Come. There's one right down the hall."

Klaus turns back to the sight of Clara on the bed. What he can see of her is limited; her body is tucked under the covers and most of her head obscured by the black bandage. He can make out only a portion of her face, seemingly paler than usual, a fall of silky chesnut hair against the white pillows, and a wisp of pink ribbon.

His fingers clench with the need to touch her.

"Mr. Goldstein."

He scowls at the voice of the strange woman, but slowly, he turns and follows.

* * *

It is the next morning before Clara stirs. At the first sign of movement Klaus shakes off the grogginess of a poor night's rest – made worse by the lumpy hospital pull-out he'd slept on – and crouches over his wife's bedside, carefully taking her hand in his own.

He's waited all night, because he knows she'll be afraid when she wakes up to nothing but darkness all around her. Long ago, she'd had nightmares about the dark, rising to consume her.

Soon enough, she is moving. There is a long breath, that inhale that she always takes before she opens her eyes in the morning –

She goes still. Klaus squeezes her hand and he feels her return the motion weakly.

"Klaus?"

"I'm here." He grabs her wrists when she tries to immediately rub at the bandage over her eyes. "No, leave that, sweetheart. It's supposed to help you."

"Darling…" Her lip trembles. "I can't see anything…" She suddenly grasps his hands with the desperation of someone drowning. "Klaus!"

"It's okay…" He comes close, carefully encircling her in his arms and pressing a kiss to her temple. "They said the blindness is just temporary. But you need to give your eyes some time to rest."

"Alright…" She's shaking a little, but suddenly she buries her nose in his neck and breathes him in, and something within her seems to unwind. Sensing her tiring, he gently pushes her back against the pillows.

"Rest some more, Clara," he murmurs. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

With a little sigh, she dozes off.

He watches her sleep for a very long time.

* * *

In the afternoon she finally awakens again, and he carefully spoon feeds her a watery broth. Afterwards, she complains of still being hungry, and to her delight, he produces a custard roll that he saved from his own meal that he feeds to her in pieces.

Finished, she sighs with content, an absentminded smile on her face. A little cream remains on her cheek. She is oblivious, as usual.

Normally he wouldn't hesitate to kiss it away. But now, seeing her, bandaged and blinded, he suddenly feels a rush of rage.

"Clara…" He tries to hold back the anger for her sake, but she stiffens, hearing it anyway."

"Eek…" she squeaks. "Here it comes…" she murmurs, as if bracing herself.

" _You little idiot! What were you thinking?_ "

She cringes. "I didn't mean to!"

"Your handler told me everything. Are you _out of your mind_? You can't dive into a fight like that!"

"But…"

"No 'buts'! I'm not done!" He scowls deeply, remembering his own terror when the story had finally been told. "Your job was to get in, get the information, and come back! You cannot put yourself at risk like that! Do you know what happens if you _die_ in the past?"

"I…I…" Her face falls. "Sorry…"

Suddenly, his anger deflates at the look on her face. "You always have a reason, don't you, Bunnyhead? What was it?"

"A child," she confesses quietly. "Somehow there was a child there. He wasn't supposed to be there. I got him out safely, but they found me right at the end…" She winces. "I got the spell off in time, but they hit my head right as I came back."

"Clara…" He shakes his head. "To think, _this_ is what you've been doing this whole time?"

There is a tense silence. "Klaus…are you angry that I had to lie to you?"

She can't see him, but she is facing his direction as if she is looking for him. Her back is tense, spine ramrod straight. Even without being able to see her eyes, he can imagine her expression, genuine contrition shining in her eyes even as she stands by what she's had to do.

"No," he answers, and the honesty of it surprises him. "I'm not mad about that."

"You're not?"

"No. I understand. It's how the Ministry works. Other members of my family have been involved. It doesn't surprise me, now that I think about it. You and your time magic…" He sighs. "I don't know whether I'm happy or regretful about training you."

"I get to help," Clara interjects, suddenly. And then she flushes, cheeks brightening with color. "It's more than I ever thought I could do. I've always been such a failure, but this…there was no one else who could do this for them. I was the only one who could." There is a pause. "I wanted to do something that you would be proud of."

Klaus bends over, pressing a kiss against her forehead, the little exposed sliver of skin that he can reach between her hairline and the bandage. On a whim he presses his lips to the little dollop of cream that was still on her cheek, swiping it away with his tongue. Cool sweetness fills his senses.

"Clara," he says, his throat suddenly hoarse. His hesitates, gathering himself, as if he needs energy to push the words past the catch in his voice. When they emerge, the words are soft, and heavy with the weight of their love. "I've always been proud."

She sniffles, and reaches up instinctively to wipe a tear. He grabs her hands again, restraining her firmly so that she won't irritate her healing eyes, and she subsides, letting the tears soak into the bandage instead.

"Do you promise?" she whispers, after a very long time.

"Always," he repeats.

* * *

They release her from the hospital after two more days of observation. Clara has to walk around with dark glasses for a few more weeks to protect her vision, but she is beginning to see again, though she complains that things look unbelievably fuzzy. Klaus holds her arm carefully, guiding her around obstacles as they make their way home.

Once back, he settles her in their living room, on her favorite loveseat. He busies himself in the kitchen, heating water for tea, while she relaxes. A few minutes later he returns with two cups, one of which he hands to her.

"Careful," he murmurs, watching her to make sure she doesn't drop the cup, before he sits next to her and begins to sip his own drink.

She sighs in peace, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I still can't believe it," Klaus says, with a fond smile. "My Bunnyhead wife is a Ministry field agent. For Intelligence, no less." He chuckles. "And you told me you hired to train an army of ants..."

"I was!" she exclaims. "That's still going on. The ants picked up very quickly, and the next project is supposed to be with their messenger birds. This was just…well…"

She hesitates, clearly torn, and he laughs. His Bunnyhead, a spy? He wonders who ever thought it was a good idea, when he can read her face like a book. "Don't tell me," he says. "You'll get in trouble for it."

"Whew!" She grins with relief. "It's so hard keeping things from you, you know. I almost told you so many times."

"Clara," he says, voice suddenly serious. "Is this the only secret?"

"Yes," she answers immediately, with confidence, and he relaxes, hearing the truth in her voice.

"Don't put yourself in danger again," he says, voice as hard as granite. "Do you hear me, Clara? You must always come home to me."

She nods, staring him straight in the eye, before she sinks against him again. "Don't worry," she adds worriedly, "it's usually not dangerous! The places we get sent to are usually abandoned, and we're usually in and out quickly, just getting some information from an old book or something. This just…went badly," she says. "It was my fault. I panicked a little. I could have cast my spell faster and gotten out of there."

He quietly resolves to do everything he can to help her be prepared the next time she faces danger. His Elite Magic Knight training had put him through many similar situations, after all.

Klaus shakes his head in wonder. He's never imagined a day where he'd be doing Elite Magic Knight training with Clara, of all people. He remembers that day in the courtyard during her provisional period at school, when she'd struggled to conjure that tiny tornado.

He recalls distinctly her expression of triumph when she'd finally gotten it. Had that been the moment when he'd fallen for her?

And now, here she was, carrying out secret missions for the Ministry that he didn't even know about.

Now that he's thought about it a little more, the vision of his little Bunnyhead on those missions is surprisingly appealing.

"Sounds like you need more practice with those spells," he croons, as he leans down to kiss her neck.

"Awww! More Special Training?"

"You can't escape," he says, and he kisses her on the mouth. When they finally part, she is gasping for breath and pressing against him in a way that shows that she understands his intentions perfectly. "You married me," he reminds her. "Special Training for life was part of the deal."

"Good thing I like you so much," she mutters.

Her words turn into a little gasp as he distracts her, hands sliding under her skirt.

And in a few more moments, they've both forgotten any mention of Special Training at all.


	40. Reprieve - Klaus

"Is she asleep?"

"Yes, thank the gods. Finally."

Klaus dropped down onto the sofa next to his wife, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Clara was staring despondently at the kitchen table, which still held the remains of their dinner - dirty dishes and all. Klaus followed her gaze and groaned.

"Still can't go to bed yet, huh," he muttered.

Clara closed her eyes and leaned back. "Can you…make it go away? Do something with magic," she pleaded.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Listen to you, Bunnyhead. No one would ever know you're a wizardess yourself."

"Too…tired…"

His elder brother had warned him about the horrors of two-year-olds, but he hadn't quite understood until his own child had crossed that milestone herself, and transformed from a beaming, wide-eyed cherub into a shrieking tornado that left everything around her in ruins. He adored his little girl with everything he was, but sometimes, when she screamed and kicked and refused to take a bath despite being covered in mud, or gifted them with uncommissioned murals all over the living room walls, or ate their dog's dinner and then stayed up half the night sobbing and vomiting…

He shook his head, eyeing Clara's belly, where their second child was just beginning to show, and wondered how much worse it would get.

"Klaus?"

"Hmm?" He reached out to stroke the nape of Clara's neck.

"I was wrong. We can bring one of the servants next time."

He laughed at that.

"I didn't want them here at my house with us…but…" Clara rolled over listlessly, tucking herself into his side. "This was supposed to be a break for you. And instead you had to deal with a vomiting toddler all night." Her hand found his and she squeezed. "Sorry."

Klaus closed his eyes for a moment, thinking back to his childhood. He couldn't remember back that far, but it made him wonder if his parents had ever done this for him - comforted him through a tantrum, no matter how ridiculous, or hugged him when he was sick, no matter that he'd caused it himself.

They loved him, and they were proud of the man he'd become. He knew that. But he couldn't quite remember anything like this at all. All he remembered were the kind hands and gentle scoldings from servants. "Young Master," they'd warned. "Your father would be very unhappy to see you acting this way."

And soon, he'd learned what was expected of him.

When Elias was born, Klaus had made sure that at least he was always there, even if others weren't. And now, here he was, a father himself, and determined to do right by his children.

It was a messy ordeal sometimes, but it felt like rightness. It felt like love.

He reached down to press a kiss to Clara's forehead. "It's okay. I don't mind," he reassured her.

"You sure?" She yawned.

"Yeah." He began to pull her closer, but then she wrinkled her nose and resisted. "What is it?"

"I think you got some vomit on your shirt."

"Oh." Once upon a time, he might have been dignified enough to be irritated. These days he didn't even bat an eyelash. "I'll go clean up, then."

"And I'll get the dishes." Clara smiled. "With magic. Somehow."

"Don't screw up. We don't want the house to fall apart around us and wake the baby up," he teased, unable to help himself, before he turned in the direction of the small bathroom down the hall.

Clara rolled her eyes. "And then, we're going to bed," she called, choosing to pointedly ignore his jibe. When Klaus turned around, a certain suggestive look in his eye, she giggled. "To sleep," she clarified. "We both need it."

"We'll see," he smirked. "Maybe I'll be able to change your mind."

* * *

When Clara came to their room a little later, she found him sleeping like a log. She bent over to kiss his cheek. He didn't stir.

"So much for that," she giggled. She admired him for a moment - her husband, handsome and disheveled and adorable and snoring just a little bit - before she reached over to turn out the light.


	41. To Serve - Elias

Elias looked nervous.

Even if his expressions didn't already broadcast every one of his emotions, Clara would have been able to tell from the hitch in his voice, the stutter that still occasionally returned whenever he did something that was ever so slightly out of his comfort zone. So she played along, letting him lead her up the stairs to their bedroom. But the little jolt of intrigued surprise she felt when he produced a silken black scarf was not feigned. Red-faced, he asked if she would let him cover her eyes.

When it was done, she reached for him and found the warmth of his sleeve. He brought her fingers to his lips, brushing soft kisses over her knuckles, before he helped her into a chair, tucked a pillow behind her back, and asked her to wait for him to get ready.

"Elias, what…"

"It's a surprise," he said, and the tremor in his voice betrayed his nerves. So Clara nodded and smiled, listening keenly to the sounds of his footsteps as he moved in their bedroom. In the darkness all she could make out was the sound of cloth rustling, and at some point the thump of a shoe hitting the floor. And then he was coming back to her, and her whole body turned towards the sound of his approach in anticipation, tracking his presence like a sunflower.

He took her hands again and carefully helped her stand, tucking her arm into his. Slowly he led her to their balcony; the slide of the door confirmed it. As she stepped outside, she took a deep breath of the cool evening air.

"Is it alright?" Elias asked. "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine," Clara answered, smiling in the direction of his voice. "It feels so nice outside."

"I'm glad." He guided her into a chair, keeping his hands on her until she sank gratefully down against it. "Clara," he said, "I'm going to take off the blindfold."

"Alright," she answered, and she felt his fingers gently tugging the cloth free.

When she opened her eyes, he was standing before her, in a formal black suit with a white shirt, back straight, posture rigid. She furrowed her brow; something about this situation seemed familiar, as if she'd seem him like this before…

Just as it hit her, he took a deep bow. "Welcome home, my lady," he intoned softly.

She didn't miss the anxious way he searched her expression, looking for some hint of reaction. She took a moment to savor the sight of him, and her mouth quirked gently in pleasure at his appearance even as heat bloomed in her cheeks in a rush of mingled embarrassment and delight. They had done this before, long ago.

At the sign of her smile, he relaxed and approached her.

"My lady," he murmured. "Can I get something for you? Perhaps something to drink?"

"Some tea would be lovely," she answered, settling into the role.

"Certainly," he acquiesced, and moved into the house. In the moments during which she was alone, she gazed out over the edge of the balcony. The sun had begun to set; the sky was splashed with streaky clouds, like stretched cotton balls, in warm, brilliant tones. She glanced down, and noticed a small stool nearby. She wiggled her toes, thinking about her aching feet, and thought about how nice it would be to prop them up. The stool was out of reach, though, and these days it wasn't always easy to bend over to get to something on the ground.

She supposed her butler would have to take care of it.

In a few minutes he had returned bearing a tea tray, along with a slice of chiffon cake on a small plate. He poured the tea and set it front of her. She took a moment to inhale the scent of the infusion he'd prepared – herbal, with red raspberry leaf – and took a sip.

"Is it to your taste, my lady?"

"Yes," she sighed. Somehow, it tasted better this evening than any other time she'd made this particular blend for herself over the past several months. "Thank you."

Elias bowed before coming closer. Before she knew it he was kneeling down on one knee next to her, taking the plate with the cake in hand. She saw the beginnings of a blush rise on his cheeks as he asked the next question, voice suddenly husky. "Would you allow me to feed you, my lady?"

There was a pause as he gazed deep into her face, and a flash of tenderness crossed his expression as he held out a piece of cake on a fork towards her. She closed her eyes as she accepted the offering, letting out a hum of pleasure as the sweetness of the cake filled her mouth. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze was rapt, still focused on her expression. There was a moment when he went still, and almost looked away – as if it were back in the first few months of their relationship, and he'd apologized every time she'd found him staring at her – but then he settled back into the persona of the butler. "Another bite, my lady?"

"Won't you have a piece, too?" she asked. "It's so delicious."

"Perhaps I will later," he answered. "But for now, let me take care of you."

By the time he'd finished feeding her and was wiping her mouth with her napkin, she couldn't keep her hands from reaching out and grazing the edge of his sleeve, longing to touch him. She caught the edge of his smile as he moved to put away the food, and she found herself staring at the door, waiting for him to return. Before she could open her mouth and put an end to their game though, he'd moved to bring the stool closer to them, and then sat on it in front of her.

"My lady," he said. "You must be very tired. Would you allow me to rub your feet for you?"

"Oh…" She inhaled, deeply tempted. It sounded heavenly, but… "Is that…safe? I've heard things about…" She trailed off as her gaze dropped down towards her midsection, and she placed her hand over the hard roundness. These days it seemed impossibly large.

Elias' hand reached out to cover hers, and she stared at the sight of their combined hands on the curve, as if protecting the child within. "It'll be alright," he said. "I did some reading, to make sure you would be safe."

Diligent. Prepared, as always. Elias would take care of her. He always did.

So she leaned back, and he brought her feet into his lap, and she groaned softly as he began. On each foot, his fingers glided firmly along her arch, applying gentle but firm pressure, before stimulating the ball and heel. He took some time to pay attention to each toe, tugging gently and squeezing until she nearly whimpered in pleasure. Once she'd been self-conscious of her swelling feet but these days it had been so long since she'd been able to actually see them that she couldn't bring herself to care. Elias had seen much worse during the last eight months than swollen toes, after all.

Clara closed her eyes, leaning back against the plush cushions. The world grew hazy and distant, and when she opened her eyes again, the sky had grown darker, and there was a blanket over her.

She jolted upright, face flaming. Had she fallen asleep?

"My lady." Elias' voice reached her from beside her. He'd evidently moved his stool so that he could sit next to her. Now, he reached out his hand to her on impulse, but hesitated and withdrew as he remembered what he was supposed to be. "Did you sleep well?"

"I'm s-sorry," she stuttered. "I didn't mean…"

"There's nothing to apologize for," he answered, his voice fond and soft, perhaps a little bit amused. "I would have carried you inside, but I didn't want to wake you. How are you feeling?"

"Much better."

"Good." He stepped back from her, bowed, and straightened. "I await your command, my lady."

For a long moment, she could do nothing but stare at him. Clara suddenly remembered the first time he'd spoken words like this to her, red-faced, awkward and stilted, in an empty classroom. She thought of the way he'd broken a cookie into pieces to feed to her, and then the way he'd knelt to gently wipe crumbs from her lips – and then, how he'd confessed that with her as the center of his attention, he hadn't even thought about it, as if caring for her was the most natural thing in the world.

Now her chest tightened with need for him. He cut a dashing figure in his suit, but what was more beautiful was the way he was looking at her, as if she were as essential to him as breath.

"Elias," she whispered.

"I am here," he answered softly. "What do you need?"

Wordlessly, she reached out to draw him closer.

He closed the distance, lips meeting hers as he encircled her waist with his right arm, even as the fingers of his left hand met and grasped her own. When their kiss ended, he stayed there, their noses still touching, foreheads brushing each other. His left hand reached up to touch her cheek, before he stroked down her shoulder, grazing the side of her breast, before coming to rest upon the swell of her stomach. "My beautiful wife," he breathed.

A rush of tears suddenly filled Clara's eyes. She let them fall, accepting the emotions they carried. Reverent expression never changing, Elias reached over to wipe them away, before leaning and kissing her deeply again.

"I'm yours," he gasped against her mouth. "This body and this soul. All yours." He placed both hands on her face, cradling her as he pressed long, sweet kisses against her mouth. She pressed into him, hands wandering to encircle his waist even as they searched for some way under his clothing. "Tell me what you need."

"You," she answered, "Just you."

In a surge of motion, he lifted her up and carried her back into their bedroom.

* * *

Sometime later, they lay together, Clara on her side with Elias behind her, though she knew she'd have to find a new position sooner rather than later. For now, she relished the way she could feel Elias all along the line of her body, from where his breath tickled at her neck, all the way down to where their toes touched.

"Elias?"

"Hmm?" He always got a little drowsy afterwards, and she smiled, listening to him make a bleary but valiant effort to pay attention to her.

"Why did you do that earlier? The butler thing?"

She knew he was sleepy because he wasn't thinking enough to be embarrassed. "It's our last Love Holiday alone for a while," he said, giving her belly a brief, affectionate stroke. "She'll be here in just a couple of weeks, and I wanted to give you something special."

"Time with you is always special to me," she reminded him.

"I know. But…I just…"

She waited, reaching back to squeeze one of his hands in encouragement.

After a long moment, he squeezed back. "We'll be completely dedicated to taking care of her soon," he began. "So…. I wanted some time where I could just focus on _you_." He pressed a kiss to her neck. "You're so tired these days. You deserve it. And it's peaceful for me too. I can't explain it…but everything else just goes away, and all I can think about is how to make sure you're comfortable and happy." His voice lowered to a shy, low octave. "I'd serve you forever."

"Elias…" Clara closed her eyes, swallowing against another rush of tightness that threatened to overwhelm her. She was silent for a long time before she spoke again. "You never did let me do the same for you," she managed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hmm?" He yawned, clearly having started to fall asleep while she'd been quiet.

"The maid thing. Though I can't imagine I'd fit into a maid's outfit anytime soon," she muttered grumpily.

"Hmm. Rejected," he answered groggily. "I like you better this way."

Clara smiled in pleasure, and was quiet for few more moments, before she ventured, "How?"

There was a silence. She suddenly realized that she'd lost him to slumber. His breathing had evened out, and she smiled in adoration, deciding to let him rest.

Moments later, she heard him mumble something, and then a telltale snore. Clara nearly choked in her attempt to control her giggles. Half-asleep, he'd still answered her question.

"Lovely. Radiant," he'd mumbled, before adding one more thing. "Naked."


	42. Fever - Luca

Clara awakens one morning to a haze of heat. When she opens her eyes, the world spins.

She manages to focus her vision long enough to read the clock, dimly horrified to see that it is already past ten, before her gaze falls upon Amelia's empty bed. Of course, she belatedly recalls; it's the weekend. There are no classes, and Amelia's gone home for a sibling's birthday party, so Clara is alone.

She falls back into bed, relieved. And then she glances down, and suddenly realizes that she's shivering and sweating at the same time. How odd.

She has plans with Luca, though not until after lunch. They are supposed to go on a picnic; she even has a little wicker basket that she found in town on the last field day, and the perfect dress already picked out. She'd prepared everything last night; bottles of juice, sandwiches, a little bag of cookies, some spicy curried salad that she thought he might like. It's all packed away and waiting in the dorm fridge downstairs.

Surely if she rests for just a little longer, she'll wake up well before noon. So she closes her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

When she awakens, it is to the soothing tones of Luca's voice.

"Let's see if this will help, my princess," he's saying. There's something cold on her forehead – a wet rag? – and he's stroking her sweat-matted hair.

Everything is still so hot. She's dazed and lightheaded and barely has the strength to open her eyes.

Luca lifts the compress for a moment, and then she suddenly feels the cool pressure of his forehead against her own. At the contact, he mutters something that sounds unhappy. Even through the fog of her illness she feels a wave of bashfulness at his proximity. He pulls away, replacing the compress with a fresh one.

"Luca," she manages, though it comes out as barely a gasp. Her voice is sandpaper dry.

He jolts forward. "Clara!" After a moment, he grabs a glass from a side table, nearly spilling it in his haste to get to her. "Here. Drink up."

She takes slow sips, realizing that it isn't water, but an iced tea of Morning Dew Weed leaves. She imagines the gulps of liquid as beads slipping down her throat, willing them to spread their cold wherever they touched. The effort of finishing the glass is enough to exhaust her, and she sinks back against the pillows, letting her head loll to the side.

"Clara…"

"M'okay," she mumbles. "Promise."

"If this is your idea of okay…" Luca shakes his head. "It's a fever. We gotta get your temperature down."

"Just need to rest," she insists.

"Are you sure?" Luca glances away for a moment. "I've never seen you like this. When I snuck in and first saw you, I thought…"

He swallows, not finishing the sentence, and reaches out, cool fingers cradling her flushed cheek. She manages to muster the strength to lift her own hand up to cover his.

Luca gazes at her for several long moments. At some point his eyes drift nearly closed, and he seems to be listening to her breathe.

Finally, he exhales, and his usual levity returns. "And here I was, wondering what kind of wicked punishment you'd get for standing me up… Did ya know, that was the first time I've been stood up on a date like that? I didn't even do anything bad this time to deserve it."

She flinches. "I'm sorry…"

"Apology not accepted," he teases, tapping her on the nose. He laughs softly at the worried expression on her face. "You'll just have to make it up to me when you're better, 'kay? A kiss or three will do." He winks.

She sighs, and then closes her eyes. "Sorry… But I'll be okay. You don't need to stay here…"

"Too bad," he answers promptly, and begins to crawl into bed.

"Luca…" she protests wearily. "What…"

She expects some kind of joke, but when he answers his tone is solemn.

"I won't do anything," he promises. "Just…let me stay here. So I can make sure you're alright."

Clara's not sure, but his expression looks almost frightened, not at all like her playful, charming Luca.

So she nods, and he joins her. She doesn't know if her face is red from fever or embarrassment. She holds her body stiff as he lies down beside her, and then she feels his hand reach out to take hers.

In that moment, she discovers that he is blessedly, blessedly cool. She immediately moves close and throws her arms around him, relishing at the relief to her fevered body. Luca goes stiff with surprise.

"Mmmm," she mumbles in surprise. "You feel so nice and _cold…_ "

He laughs, and relaxes. "Shameless when you're sick? I'll have to remember this."

Her body feels flushed and yet inert, but she is mindlessly greedy in her attempts to seek out the coolness of his skin, like when she'd press herself against the cold wall as a child on hot, airless summer nights in her village. Luca bears her struggles without complaint, and puts an arm around her to keep her close.

Finally, wrapped around him, she sighs, a little more comfortable than before.

"You're such a tease," Luca says in a mock petulant tone, though she hears the fondness in his voice. "It would be wrong to take advantage of a sick girl, even for me."

"Sorry…"

Before she drifts off, she feels the cool press of a kiss on her forehead.

"Get better quickly, okay? I want to see you running around and smiling again soon."

"I'll never leave you," she mumbles.

He goes still. When he answers, his voice is lined with tenderness, and heavy with the weight of the faith he has placed in her, to be the bright star shining for him all throughout the darkest night.

"Good," he whispers, "because you're the only thing I have that's worth living for."


	43. Brothers - Elias & MC (friendship)

"So how's it going with my brother?"

The question slipped out before Elias realized it. The instant he'd realized what he'd said, he flinched, shaking his head desperately in an attempt to backpedal. "I-I mean…"

Across from him, Clara stared at him over her textbook, her own face already red with embarrassment. Elias cursed inwardly at his faux pas, which had turned a perfectly pleasant study session into something painfully awkward.

This was one of those things that you just didn't ask about.

Still, a part of him was curious. He couldn't deny that he still puzzled over the mystery of his imperious elder brother's attraction to this country bumpkin of a girl.

This was Klaus, after all; Klaus, who demanded perfection in all aspects of his life, from himself and others, but who had somehow formed a sudden and immutable attachment to someone so unbelievably…ordinary.

Clara nibbled her lower lip. "It's o-okay."

Elias' brow furrowed as his embarrassment subsided. "Just okay?"

"I mean.." She sighed. "It's fine. Klaus helps me every day, but…" She stared dully at the textbook before her. "He's so busy, but he always takes the time to help me, so I wish I were doing better."

"What are you talking about?" Elias recalled the results posted from the last test. Clara hadn't been in the top tenth, but she'd been solidly above average, and she'd been doing much better consistently compared to when she'd first started. Even her spellwork was beginning to show progress as her concentration improved, though her spells still tended to yield the occasional surprise result – like the rabbit conjured from what should have been a book summoning spell, a rabbit that had hopped cheerfully out the window and into the woods, in front of all their baffled peers.

"It's not enough," she fretted. "I'm so behind, still. What if…" She stared sadly at Elias. "What if he gets tired of the trouble and…dumps me?"

"H-Hart," Elias sputtered. "I-I…" He trailed off, not knowing what to say, and not used to this kind of situation at all. The last thing he'd expected of this study session was to be playing counselor to his brother's girlfriend.

Clara exhaled heavily, and began staring despondently at her book again.

Seeing her expression, Elias decided to try his best. "If you think that, you're underestimating Klaus."

She looked at him in surprise. "H-huh?"

"You think he'd give up on you that easily?" Elias asked. "I don't think he would. Ever." And he looked off to the side, face going pink as he recalled the conversation. "He told me, anyway, that it doesn't matter how good you are at magic. It wouldn't change how he felt at all." Then he stiffened, remembering the rest of that talk. "Don't tell him I told you that!"

Clara's eyes widened, and a light flush rose on her cheek. "Klaus…. He said that?"

Elias glanced around the library quickly, as if worried that the subject of their conversation might appear at any moment. "He did," he confirmed in a low voice.

"Oh…" There was a soft, vulnerable look in Clara's eyes, and Elias averted his gaze, as if he was intruding on something very private.

"In any case," he continued awkwardly, "you're the only girl he's ever lov – liked." He coughed, unable to commit to saying that most accurate, most mortifying word. "And when Klaus takes a liking to something, he doesn't let it go. So he won't. Let you go, I mean." He flushed.

Clara was smiling now, warm and bright. "Thanks, Elias."

Elias nodded, and then forcibly tried to concentrate again on his reading.

There was a silence, before Clara eyed him shyly. "You know…he loves you too."

Elias, who had begun working on their assignment, froze. "Wh-what?"

"I know he's really tough on you, but Klaus really cares for you."

Elias shifted uncomfortably. "W-We should get back to our work. Professor Schuyler wanted five pages on this, and the paper's not going to write itself."

"A-Alright," Clara acquiesced reluctantly, but there was a certain steely look in her eye that suggested the conversation wasn't over.

* * *

A few days later, Elias was returning from another session in the library – alone this time, as Clara had spent the afternoon training with his brother. As Elias crossed the courtyard to head towards his dorm, he was surprised to hear Clara calling him.

"What is it?" He turned to see her hurrying across the lawn towards him, backpack tossed over one shoulder haphazardly. She skidded to a stop with a gasp of relief.

"I'm glad I found you!" she grinned cheerfully. "I wanted to show you something. Come here!"

"W-Wait!" Elias followed after her, and she led them to a quieter part of the courtyard, where they stopped at a nearby bench.

Clara withdrew something from her backpack. It was some kind of large, flat book, and when she opened it, Elias saw that it was a photo album. "Look, Elias!"

As she flipped through the pages in front of him, he was stunned to see that every single one of the photos was of Klaus and himself. There were at least three dozen of them, snapped at different moments in their childhood. In every one, he was by his brother's side, an expression of worship on his face.

Elias' face went red. "How…"

"I just wanted to show you," Clara said with a gentle smile. "Klaus keeps this in his office, you know."

She closed the book and offered it to him. Elias accepted it hesitantly. "He's had this with him all this time…?"

"Yeah. You're the reason why he even wanted to be a professor in the first place." And then she winced and lowered her voice, looking around the area guiltily. "Oops…I wasn't supposed to tell you…"

Elias' hands moved as if their own accord, to slowly crack open the album again. There they were again, all spread out before him – him and Klaus, next to their first snowman, or standing together at a party, or playing with their dog. This time, he studied his brother's expression in each one of them.

Radiant, loving joy.

"He loves you, Elias." Clara sighed. "Maybe he's not good at showing it. He was pretty harsh with me, too. But he always means well. And if you ever needed his help…he'd stop at nothing." She looked down shyly. "I just wanted you to know."

"I…" Elias suddenly felt strange. It was as if a part of him had gone numb from cold long ago. And now that piece of him was thawing all too quickly, cracking painfully until the ice had fully melted to reveal a core of something vulnerable and tender and warm.

He squeezed his fists tight, focusing on concentrating his strength in that movement to gather his emotions from where they'd scattered, like leaves.

When it was over, he closed the book, and handed it back to her.

"You don't want to hold onto it?" she asked.

Elias smiled. "No need. Just seeing it was enough."

"Okay…" She knelt to put the album away.

"Besides," he added, trying to lighten the mood, "I bet Klaus will be angry if he realizes you've taken it."

For a moment, Clara froze, but then a tiny, almost coy smile appeared on her face. "It's okay. He'll forgive me. Eventually."

She waved goodbye and turned to leave, as the warning bell for curfew began to ring.

"Hart," he called out again, and at her inquiring look he nodded. "…thanks."

"Anytime, Elias!" she called back cheerfully, and then skipped off in the direction of her own dormitory.

Elias inhaled deeply, and wondered that each breath seemed just a little lighter, a little easier. His brother…well, nothing would really change. Elias wouldn't say anything. But he didn't need to.

It wasn't all right, but it was a little better.

And Clara…he watched her disappear into the door of her dormitory. The more time he spent with her, the more he began to understand. He wondered if that was what Klaus had seen in her; a refreshing authenticity that made her oddly endearing despite her colossal failures and obvious flaws. And a stubborn loyalty to those she considered friends.

A friend. He didn't have many, and she wasn't what he'd expected, but she would do. And one day, it would be nice to have a sister like that.

He looked forward to it.


	44. Sweets - Azusa

Clara loves sweets. Azusa has known this from the first days of their acquaintance, and even now he still marvels at the way she never seems to sicken of them. Compared to Hinomoto, Gedonelune has no end of pastry and candy variations, and she seems to love them all. The only thing she seems to love more than eating sweets is making them.

It becomes a strangely masochistic game for her, that she tries to make him a different kind of sweet each week to tempt his appetite. Muffins, macarons, financiers, madeleines. He marvels at the variety, and has grudgingly admitted that they are objectively very tasty; she is a natural talent in the kitchen, experimenting and innovating with a confidence he wishes she showed in her spellwork.

It is too bad he just does not particularly like sweets.

"You don't even like _cupcakes?_ " she gasps in amazement. "How is that possible?"

Cupcakes are her favorite. He knows this now.

"Too cloying," he mutters, scowling at the offending dessert. "And all that frosting…how can you stand eating something like that? Doesn't your stomach hurt afterward? You have the tastes of a child."

She wrinkles her nose in protest. "Meanie. Isn't there _anything_ you like?"

Without waiting for an answer, she turns away from him and pointedly begins eating her own cupcake. The expression of outrage disappears and instead she hums contentedly as she enjoys her first bite. In a short time her lips are covered in a smear of white frosting.

In the dappled sunlight of the forest, she glows. Her eyes fall closed as she smiles, the expression on her face surprisingly sensual as she licks her lips clean of frosting.

In that moment, Azusa cannot look away.

 _Anything I like…_ he thinks, and is stunned to realize that the sight of her enjoyment brings him happiness too. How long ago since he had felt that, sheer pleasure over something as insignificant and lovely as a girl's smile?

He reaches out to take another cupcake and hold it out to her. "Why don't you have another?"

"Um… you sure?" she asks, looking at the treat longingly.

"You could do with some more meat on your bones. You're so skinny. How old are you again? Eight?"

"Azusa!"

* * *

In the aftermath of her snacking Clara dozes off, warmed by the afternoon sun, and Azusa finds himself staring at her peaceful, sleeping face.

"Something I like," he repeats softly. He reaches out towards her, and then pulls back before contact, fingers quivering in thwarted longing. But though he denies himself touch, he lets his eyes linger over her features, the innocent cast of her face, the long and silly pigtails, the waifish figure that he would never find appealing except that it is hers.

"Little goof," he mutters. "You," he adds, the sound nearly lost in the rustling of the trees. "I like you."


	45. Trouble - Elias

"An Elite Magic Knight? You?"

Elias flinched at the disbelief in his brother's voice, but he forged on bravely. "Yes. Would you be willing to help?"

From behind his desk, Klaus crossed his arms and stared at him. There was a long silence, and Elias began to fidget a little uncomfortably under Klaus' pointed stare.

"The Elite Magic Knight certification involves rigorous battle training, well beyond what is covered at the Academy," Klaus commented. "Tell me why, Elias."

An image came immediately to mind – the Tower of Sorrow, and Clara, bleeding to death in his arms. Elias had washed the bloodstains out of his uniform that next morning, but he never forgot the smell and feeling of it – his brave Buddy's blood, warm and sticky, spilled in an effort to protect _him_. The terror of feeling her life ebb away, and the powerlessness…

That had been the worst. That he, with all his As and supposed classroom mastery, could do nothing for her when it really mattered….

No. He would never let it happen again.

Elias took a slow, calming breath. "I need to be able to protect Clara," he managed. "If something ever happens to her…" he trailed off, not able to voice aloud to his brother the rest of the thought without revealing what was still so new and tender.

If something ever happened to her, she'd take his heart with him.

"Your Buddy," Klaus muttered. "The girl who summoned all the Carbuncles?"

Elias flinched. "Yeah."

"I can see why she would need the help," Klaus smirked, and Elias couldn't help but smile exasperatedly.

"She's a strange one," Elias admitted. "She's got almost no magical foundation, and her spells only work on animals. But she's really strong at Primitive Magic. It's as if…" he trailed off, suddenly aware of Klaus' intrigued expression. "I mean - !"

"Say no more," his brother smirked mischievously. "I get the picture."

Elias swallowed.

"Should I be writing to Mother and Father about a wedding soon?" his brother grinned.

"N-no!" Elias flushed red. "It isn't like that!"

"It isn't?"

"Well…" Elias groaned. "It's none of your business, Brother!"

"I beg to differ. If this girl is going to be part of my precious little brother's life, it is very much my business. You will introduce your Buddy to me, won't you?"

"Of course…" For a terrible moment, Elias panicked and felt his body turn cold. He'd spent so many years in Klaus' shadow…what if Clara, when they met…

No.

He pushed that ugly, horrible thought away, and took a long breath, deciding to put an end to Klaus' ribbing. "Brother," he said solemnly. "It would mean everything to me if you would help me train to become an Elite Magic Knight. Will you help?"

There was a long, assessing silence. Klaus stared at him, expression suddenly unfathomable. Then, finally, he took a sip from his teacup.

"If you worked hard enough," Klaus began, "you wouldn't need my help at all." Elias' heart had begun to sink, when Klaus continued. "But I will."

Elias drew a sharp breath. "Thank you, Brother…"

Klaus smiled. "I'm glad to see that you've finally found something worth fighting for. I hope your magic will improve as a result. We start tomorrow morning, before class." He nodded, in a clear gesture of dismissal.

Elias nodded and bowed, heart pounding in relief. As he walked down the hall, he thought again of the events that night. Failing to recognize a magical sealing spell, and then nearly losing her to the Chimera, and then to Merkulova, and then Luca…

He sighed. She was nothing but trouble, his Clara.

His Clara. His chest seemed to grow tight through a thrill of tender possessiveness, and he couldn't help but feel a slow warmth creeping up to settle in his cheeks. Suddenly, he saw her down the hall, talking to her roommate. Her Carbuncle spun in circles on her head, mussing up her hair.

As he approached, she noticed him and turned, expression brightening like a sunrise.

Nothing but trouble, he thought. But totally and utterly worth it.


	46. In Sickness and In Health - Elias x Luca

"I can't believe it." From where he was curled up in the fetal position on the dorm room couch, Elias spoke, but his words were barely audible.

"Believe it, Prince," Luca muttered from next to him, sprawled out with limbs askew. "Unless you were faking throwing up into the toilet just now."

Elias moaned softly, burying his face against a cushion. "This is all your fault!"

"Me?" Luca seemed a little more animated, able to briefly fake an innocent expression before he winced at a stomach cramp.

"You were the one who wanted to go to that street fair. After we had a perfectly nice, decent meal!" Elias carefully rolled over so that he could aim a glare at Luca. "And now we both have food poisoning!"

Luca guffawed. "How do you know it was the street food? Maybe it was the food you ate? What was it called, tartare?" He made a face. "Who eats raw meat like that?"

Elias looked as if he were about to retort, when suddenly he froze, and then managed to summon a surge of energy to dash off into the bathroom.

When he returned, he slumped back weakly against the couch and sighed.

Luca caught sight of his boyfriend's expression and slowly reached a hand out to touch the other boy's fingers. "Heya, Prince," he said, voice suddenly soft and kind. "What's got you down?"

Elias let his fingers curl around Luca's. "It's just…it was our first Love Holiday together," he answered quietly. "I wanted it to be special."

For a quiet moment, they stared at one another, before Luca drew himself up with some effort and began to move closer, close enough to lean in and brush his lips against Elias' mouth. Elias squeezed his hand, and allowed himself to be tucked against Luca's shoulder. He managed to curled one arm around Luca's waist, savoring the warmth.

And then Luca smirked. "Well, you should be grateful for one thing."

"What?"

Luca grinned. "I'm still here. I haven't run away yet." He paused, savoring Elias' expression of confusion, before adding, "Even after smelling your vomit breath."

"Luca!"


	47. Doppelganger - Klaus

"Is this what I think it is?"

Clara's face immediately fell at the suspicious disapproval in Klaus' voice. She stared down at the innocent looking scrap of paper, cut to look like a small person. "It's a Shikigami Beta. If you kiss it, it makes a copy of you that acts just like you. It can even take classes and do your homework for you!"

"I'm well aware of what it does." Klaus exhaled, brow twitching in irritation. "This is Randy's doing, isn't it?"

"Well…" Clara fidgeted, looking down guiltily. "Maybe I went to him for ideas."

"Ideas?" He shook his head in exasperation. "What are you up to now, Bunnyhead?" Klaus put down his pen and gave her his full attention. Depending on his mood, that could be very enjoyable, or very nerve wracking. In this case, it was the latter.

"It's j-just…" She stammered, and then swallowed hard before forging on. Klaus liked it when she was honest, no matter how embarrassing it was, so she always tried. "It's just that you're so busy all the time. I was looking for some way to help you. I know I don't really help you that much by being here…and…" She trailed off.

"Clara." To her surprise, he stood up and walked over. His voice had gone soft, and though it wasn't entirely a surprise when he pulled her into his arms, it was no less wonderful. She sighed and tucked her cheek against the broad warmth of his chest. In turn, his fingers tangled into her hair, stroking the crown of her head gently. "I appreciate you thinking of ways to help me. But I can't use that."

Her shoulders slumped. "Why not? Randy uses it all the time."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Of course he would. How typical of Randy," he muttered. "Clara, that's a truant's tool. Using it would be cheating."

"Cheating? But isn't it just magic? We use magic all the time."

He smiled fondly at her. "If I had used a love potion to make you fall for me, what would you think?"

She frowned immediately. "That's not right."

"Correct." He tweaked her nose, and smirked as she wrinkled it in protest. "The most important things in life…anything worth having, you should work for yourself."

"Alright," Clara sighed, a little glum. She'd hoped that maybe he'd use it to escape from his duties and spend some more time with her. But she should have known. This was Klaus, after all; Goldstein or not, he had worked hard for everything he'd accomplished. And she loved him for that quality, that searing drive that defined him.

Of course he wouldn't use something like the Shikigami. She shouldn't have bothered.

"Speaking of work," he added, a mischievous grin appearing on his face, "Shouldn't you be getting back to that now? Those books aren't going to shelve themselves."

"Awww…"

* * *

A few weeks later, Clara woke up coughing and shivering.

"It's a cold," Amelia pronounced sadly. "I'm glad it's not something more serious, but you'll still need rest and fluids until you feel better. You'll probably have to skip classes."

"Oh no…but – " Clara broke off coughing, and Amelia winced.

"See? It's out of the question." Amelia grabbed the covers and tucked them in around Clara's form. "Why don't you go back to sleep? I'll drop by your class and let your professor know you're not feeling well."

"Okay…"

She drifted off before Amelia had even left the room.

When Clara awoke, it was nearly noon. Faced with the bright light of midday, she squinted and glanced throughout the room, expecting it to be empty. She started when she found a large figure occupying her chair. "Eeeek!"

Klaus shook his head in irritation. "What an unpleasant welcome, for someone who came to take care of you."

"S-sorry – " Clara broke off in a fit of coughs. Klaus' gaze grew worried, and he moved over to her side, filling a glass with water from a pitcher nearby that he must have brought in. She accepted it gratefully, and drank it slowly, before collapsing back against the pillows. "Sorry," she whispered again.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, pressing a hand to her forehead. "It doesn't feel like a fever."

"It's just a cold, I think," she managed in a croak. "I'll be alright."

Something in his posture seemed to relax, minutely. "Good." He took her hand and looked over to the desk, and Clara followed his gaze to see a thermos there. "It's important for you to eat something while you're recovering. Will you be able to have some lunch? I have some soup."

"Mmm…" Clara smiled at the thought. "Maybe in a bit. I think I might rest a little more first."

"Alright." Klaus pulled his chair over to her side, settled there, and opened a book.

"Hmm? Klaus?" Clara's brow furrowed.

"What is it?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm staying with you."

Clara blinked. "But…don't you have work to do today?"

"The Shikigami is taking care of it."

"Oh…" Clara frowned. "But didn't you say that's cheating? That the important things are what you should work for yourself?"

Klaus sighed, a familiar look of exasperation on his face, before he looked down at her. "Dense as usual, Bunnyhead," he muttered, before leaning in to brush a kiss across her forehead. "What could be more important than you?"

Clara's chest began to grow tight, and she couldn't help but press her hand there, as if to contain the sudden surge of emotion. "I love you," she whispered.

At that, Klaus carefully put his arms around her, stroking her back. "Stop being so adorable and rest," he whispered against her ear, pressing one last kiss against the curve of her neck.

She nodded, and then leaned back and closed her eyes, a smile on her lips as she fell asleep once more.

* * *

Several days later...

"I can't believe this," Klaus managed to growl, before another coughing fit took over.

Clara set down a steaming teacup in front of him. Klaus took a sniff, and though his sense of smell was somewhat reduced due to the stuffiness in his nose, he could make out an acrid whiff of lemon, along with the mellow sweetness of honey. He took a cautious sip.

"Sorry," she whispered. "At least the Shikigami is covering your classes for you."

"If Randy were really all that smart, he would invent a Shikigami that could sit here and suffer through this illness for me while I did my own work," Klaus grumbled. But he caught sight of the expression on Clara's face, and reach out to grab her hand.

"It's my fault you're sick," she said miserably. "Next time, you can send the Shikigami to take care of me instead of coming yourself."

Klaus smiled, and reached out to pull her close. "Haven't you learned anything yet?" he asked, ruffling her hair. "I would never do that. Besides, you're here with me now, aren't you?"

Clara nodded. "Yeah. I am."

He grinned. "Best of all, I get to order you around while I'm sick, and you can't say no."

"Klaus!"

"What?" Klaus laughed at the stricken expression on her face. "Don't tell me you're heartless enough to say no to a sick person when he needs something? After all, I only got sick because of you, didn't I?"

Clara sighed and rushed to do what he asked. He was a terrible patient; restless and grouchy and devious all at once.

But she stayed, because Klaus was right, as always. It was worth it.


	48. Envy - Elias x MC, Joel POV

Warning: This is not kind to Joel.

* * *

He was stuck.

Joel tugged at the door once more, but it was clearly a lost cause. The sun had disappeared under the horizon, and the last rays of light filtering through the greenhouse's glass walls cast the building in ever darkening shades of gold. Perhaps if he hadn't been in this situation, he'd have been able to appreciate the sight, but now…

Joel sighed, turning away from the door and heading back to where he'd left his cloak and backpack in a remote corner. He slanted a brief scowl at the musical score that had occupied him well beyond the greenhouse's closing time. Settling back down on the ground with his back against the wall, he thought about writing a note to the head of the boys dorm, Elias Goldstein.

Suddenly, he stiffened. There were voices in the greenhouse.

Holding his breath, Joel concentrated until he could faintly make out the sound of a girl's voice, as well as the deeper masculine undertones of her companion. A couple, then. He stifled a groan. Just his luck, to be stuck here uncomfortably till dawn with some lust-crazed classmates –

The voices got louder.

"I can't believe this. How did we manage to fall asleep?"

"Sorry, Elias…but it was so comfortable there in the sun…"

"Well, now we're stuck here all night because of you!"

Joel closed his eyes, feeling something grow dead and heavy in his chest, as if his heart had turned to lead.

"What do we do – " Clara's question suddenly cut off, and Joel heard a gasp of horror. "Oh, no! I'm going to miss dinner!"

"What – "

There was a silence, before Joel heard the unbelievable and unmistakable sound of Elias Goldstein laughing. It was something he'd never himself witnessed in his famously cold classmate, a boy he had never spoken to in person, though everyone at the Academy knew the Goldsteins. He'd never even seen Elias smile, until recently.

Moments later, Clara joined in, her girlish laughter ringing through the greenhouse like little silver bells.

Joel listened to the sound and wondered that the fundamental timbre of that laughter remained unchanged, even though Clara was ten years older than she'd been the last time he'd heard it. Ten years of dreaming – ten years of longing. And in the end, it was two weeks that mattered – two weeks that he'd been gone from school, two critical weeks he could never get back, and he'd returned, to find the love of his life, the girl that had defined his childhood and shaped his entire life, ensconced in the arms of another.

Now, when Clara's eyes moved over a crowd of people, there was only one person she sought – and it wasn't Joel. Each time he found himself in her path, he'd watch sadly as her gaze flickered over him, and then passed him by. She didn't remember him at all.

And whose fault is that? A little voice taunted him. His heart stung as he listened to them laughing together.

And then they went quiet.

Joel's brow furrowed, and he held still. Moments later, his ears picked up the sound of soft indistinct murmuring, but he couldn't make out the words. The soft sounds went on for a while longer, before suddenly they ceased as well.

And then he heard a telltale feminine moan. "Elias…"

Joel's face went scarlet with mortification, even as the blood in his veins seemed to turn cold with horror.

"Clara…"

Elias' voice had gone low and husky, soft in a way that Joel had never associated with him. There was a rustle of movement – of fabric, Joel realized with a wince – and then he heard Elias' words, the sounds traveling clearly in the stillness of dusk.

"May I…?"

Clara answered with a soft, fluttering sigh.

"You're so soft. I never thought…" There was a hitch in Elias' voice, and then he trailed off, and all Joel could hear was their breathing.

Joel clamped his hands over his ears and made himself very, very small in his corner, mind racing furiously. There was no way he could hide himself without his magic, and he couldn't use his magic without using his voice. He inwardly cursed the limitations of his spellsinging.

In the ringing silence strung between the palms he'd clamped over his ears, Joel could hear nothing but the beating of his own heart and the sound of breathing. Was it his own? Joel thought so at first, but in time he realized that no, it was the sound of their mingled breaths. And then the cries came, crescendoing cruelly and relentlessly, reaching his senses despite his best attempts to keep them at bay.

In the aftermath, they whispered words of love.

Sick with anguish and envy, Joel curled into a ball, and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for a long, hard night.


	49. Pride - Elias x Luca (Lulias)

"Luca!" Elias hissed. "Let me go!"

Luca smirked. "I don't think so, Elias. The view from here looks pretty good to me. I think I'll try to enjoy it a little longer." The green-haired boy inhaled and exhaled slowly, examining the sight before him. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

"Luca…!" Elias struggled, but the binding magic that Luca had cast moments ago held fast, and he couldn't move anything except for his face. He was stuck, humiliatingly, down on his knees, kneeling before Luca like some kind of deviant. "Is this some kind of sick joke - "

"Oh, it's not a joke."

Elias froze. Luca's words were sharp and cruel, and they sent a shudder down Elias' spine. In the eerie silence that followed, Elias watched as a storm of loathing twisted across Luca's expression.

"W-what are you playing at?" Elias struggled once more, attempting to flex his fingers ineffectively, and seethed at the sight of his own wand, tucked out of reach in Luca's back pocket. If only he'd been like his brother, crafty enough to hide a wand in a ring….

But it was too late to think about that now. He was helpless.

Real fear began to pool in his chest, cold and heavy. "Luca…you wouldn't leave me like this," he said, but doubt ate at his words. "…would you?"

"Would I?" Luca approached Elias' kneeling form, step by step, until he was close enough that if Elias strained his neck just one more inch, he might have been close enough to kiss him. For a moment Elias stared at the cloth of Luca's shirt, at the crease that he knew lay right over the divot of Luca's navel.

Luca began to laugh again, bitter and cold. "How pathetic," he muttered. "You're shameless. Look at you." With a cruel, catlike smile, Luca eyed him. "You want me even now, don't you?"

"Luca…." Face reddening, Elias' shoulders drooped, and he struggled to shift against the dull aching pressure in his knees, pressed against the hard wooden floor. "Why are you doing this? I thought…."

"You thought that I would be satisfied with being your dirty little secret."

The words were barbed. They cut deep into the tender space in Elias' chest that he'd so recently made for this strange, uncertain thing between them.

"I guess I'm not good enough for you," Luca spat. "Maybe I should have known that Prince Elias would be too proud to acknowledge his good-for-nothing, underachiever boyfriend in front of the mighty Goldstein family." There was a hitch in Luca's voice, and he suddenly seemed to deflate. His whole body slumped, posture softening just a little bit, in a way that no one else but Elias would have noticed. "Maybe I expected too much of this," Luca finished, the words caustic and hopeless.

An unsteady silence followed, one that seemed to ring in Elias' ears. All he could perceive was that ringing, relentless and oppressive, and the heat of his shame searing scarlet across his skin, and the gasping, gaping void somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.

"Maybe it's for the best," Luca added, words quiet and still as death, before he turned and began to walk towards the door to the Archives.

"Stop - !"

A gust of wind blasted out around them. Suddenly Elias' body was freed, the binding magic disintegrating in the wake of the Primitive Spell. Elias surged to his feet. Nearby, hit in the back by the wind, Luca fell forward, cursing as he collided with a chair. Around them, books tumbled from their shelves, loosened pages fluttering until they settled in haphazard piles all around.

In a rush of desperation, Elias staggered forward, hands reaching out to grasp Luca's arm. "Please." Elias gasped, and to his horror, his throat was tight with tears, and then Luca's form swam in his blurred vision. "Luca…please …don't…"

Suddenly, Elias found himself enfolded in a familiar, rough embrace. He had to apologize – had to explain. It wasn't like that, he'd do anything, but he couldn't lose Luca, couldn't losethis. Whatever this was.

It was useless to deny it. He knew what this was.

The searing brand of Luca's kiss wiped all thoughts from his mind.

When they finally parted, Elias struggled to regain his breath. "Not too proud," he gasped. "Just…too afraid."

Luca's brow rose for a moment, and Elias found himself searching that expression, hoping for some sign of amnesty. There was a long moment of silence, until finally a smirk appeared on Luca's face, and Elias exhaled in a daze of relief.

"It's about time, Prince."

Elias blinked at the change in Luca's demeanor. "Luca…what…"

Luca muttered a spell, and suddenly the door to the Archives clicked as a lock slid in place. Elias froze at the sound, and turned instantly red.

"Looks like you know what's going to happen now, don't ya, Prince?" Luca asked, eyeing the red cast of Elias' cheeks with a smirk. Luca reached an arm out and shoved Elias back down towards the ground, until the blond boy was on his knees once more.

"Luca, wh – mmph!"

Elias' protest was interrupted by another brief, fierce kiss. Just as Elias began to relax into it, Luca pulled away. Before Elias could react, Luca had cast a spell.

To his shock, Elias felt the cold bite of handcuffs closing over his wrists. At the same time, a pillow suddenly appeared under his knees. Elias gaped, unable to reconcile the conflicting sensations: the cold bite of metal on his wrists, and the soft plushness of down that caressed his knees and shins.

"What is the meaning of this?! Luca?"

"If you want me to forgive you, Prince, you gotta give up that pride for a little while."

Elias blinked. "Give up my…huh?"

Luca's eyes gleamed. "Beg for me, sweet prince." He leaned down to briefly brush his lips against Elias' mouth, before stepping back. "You'll have to beg all night long for my forgiveness."


	50. Hammock - Klaus

"Klaus?"

Clara peeked into the doorway of her bedroom. Finding nothing, she turned to check her parents' room, frowning when her search turned up empty. Where could he be?

The scent of freshly baked scones wafted tantalizingly from down the hall and she inhaled deeply, smiling. Despite ostensibly being on vacation at her home in Reitz, Klaus had been working nearly nonstop, and she'd thought to surprise him with an afternoon tea break. But while he'd been holed up in her room all morning, making his way diligently through a set of assignments that had needed to be graded, he was nowhere to be found now.

Finally, when she was beginning to think he'd walked off in the direction of the town, she caught sight of the hammock through the window. It hung suspended between two trees in her yard. Her father had put it up, long ago, and spent many happy evenings there with a pipe and a book. Clara had almost never used it herself, preferring the cushion of the grasses that grew long and wild near the riverbank, where she could watch the puffy clouds changing shape as they traversed the sky above. But as she approached the hammock now, there was Klaus, seemingly asleep.

Delight welled up in her chest. Even now as they were, lovers for years and closer than ever, it was rare that she got to witness Klaus sleeping. On the rare mornings when she was lucky enough to wake up by his side, he'd almost always be the one watching her, or sometimes teasing her until she opened her eyes. It was, she thought, a testament to how tired he must be now. Her heart softened as she drew closer, and she saw the papers that he'd been reading set aside along with his quill, lying in the grass nearby.

Even in slumber he was the picture of elegance, his face noble and composed, and exuding sheer masculine beauty. It was as if she'd stumbled upon a sleeping god. Her helpless fascination warred with her reluctance to disturb him, but in the end she couldn't help herself. As she leaned over him, a lock of her hair fell against his face, and he twitched, before his eyes opened, narrowing upon her frozen form.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a suspicious gleam in his eye. "Came to disturb my rest, hmm?"

"Sorry…" Clara apologized, but internally she was already relaxing at his tone. He sounded sleepy, and fond, and not angry at all. She lingered longingly over him, her gaze drawn to his mouth.

"You look like you want something," Klaus said with a lazy smile.

"I…" She flushed, unable to deny it.

"Come here," Klaus murmured, reaching out to tug at her. Hesitating, she placed an arm on the hammock, causing it to tip unevenly. "Don't you dare make us fall," he warned. The sound of that growling voice only served to ignite a little flickering flame within her belly.

"Can this thing even hold both of us?" she asked, eyeing the ties dubiously.

"It can," Klaus insisted. "I strengthened it earlier with magic. You just have to know how to get on. Turn around."

As per his instruction, she turned and managed to get in, though not without some protest when she realized that she had no choice but to sit in his lap before she could get on without tipping them over. Then he managed to turn her so that she was essentially draped along his body. How shameless, she thought, burying her face against his chest. Klaus didn't seem to share her embarrassment, instead pulling her closer and nosing at her hair.

"You smell sweet," he whispered.

"I made you scones," she said, her attention drawn by the movement of his hands as they stroked her back. She shivered as he reached low to toy with the hem of her skirt.

"That sounds good," he answered, "but I think I've got an appetite for something else right now."

"K-Klaus," she gasped. "But…"

"But what?" he countered immediately. "We're all alone. And," he purred as he leaned down to nibble at her neck, "I've been working hard all morning." One of his hands reached up to caress her back lovingly, even as the other teased at the pale skin of her thighs, now exposed to the air. "And now I'm hungry."

He kissed her then, sweet and demanding at once, and as he shifted her to press against his body, she had no doubt what he wanted. She could feel the answer of her own body, heating in response, tightening with desire.

She kissed him back.

The scones were cold by the time they finally sat down to tea, but neither of them minded.

* * *

Author's Note: Here we are - 50 chapters. It's been a long and fun ride, and I'd like to now consider this story complete. There may be an occasional chapter, but it would be rare.

Thank you for everyone who's been reading all these little one-shots. They've been incredibly rewarding and fun to write. Your comments and feedback have been invaluable in keeping me going for this long!


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